


Head was spinnin'

by NuwaWuxia



Category: C-Pop, NINE PERCENT (Band), ONER (Band), 乐华七子NEXT | NEX7, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Basically you're doing it with almost everyone, Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Friends With Benefits, Light Angst, Making Out, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Porn, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Sex, sometimes it just be like that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29050401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuwaWuxia/pseuds/NuwaWuxia
Summary: College AU:To say that the art department at your college was sexually entangled would be an understatement. By the logic that “when you have sex with someone you’re having sex with everyone they’ve ever had sex with” everyone had had sex with everyone else. You know this, but it wasn’t hard to understand why. The boys in this department were justirresistible. You couldn’t help it. You were always thinking aboutboys.Inspired by Charli XCX's "Boys"ORYou really like sleeping with the boys in your department. Mostly smut, some fluff and crack. Please mind warnings in the chapter summary.***We do not slut shame here. It is 1000% acceptable for women to enjoy sex as much as they please, in all its many forms. Just be sure to take care of your health.
Relationships: Bi Wenjun/You, Ding Zeren/You, Everyone/You, Fan Chengcheng/You, Huang Minghao | Justin/You, Huang Xinchun/You, Li Quanzhe/You, Zhu Zhengting | Jung Jung/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Justin: "Zhengting gave me your number"

**Author's Note:**

> You are a junior, and although you dabble in all kinds of art and your major is actually art history, your real field of study is boys. And sometimes girls. But mostly boys. You’re part of an informal group among the students of the art department that other students call “the muses,” which basically just means you help other students with their projects, usually as a model and typically with some kind of benefit to yourself as well. These benefits could be anything from a meal to money or simply the pleasure of someone’s...company. It also means that your number is freely given out to people in need of help, and almost everyone knows you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Justin x reader  
> Genre: romance (?) Smut(?) (NOT REALLY IMO)
> 
> Justin, the innocent one, is just a first year student in painting and drawing. You agree to help him with a project, but maybe he wants a little more than help.
> 
> A/n: So, I couldn’t bring myself to write a super sexy scene about our sweet baby Minghao. I feel personally offended when he tries to be sexy. But I didn’t want to just leave him out because he's almost 19, so he gets this little makeout sesh. aw.

  
[ ](https://ibb.co/8zrZKdN)

You text Justin your address and he knocks on the door right on time. You open the door wearing black cotton shorts and a thin white t-shirt that you know makes you look sexy without trying to look sexy. You’re surprised to see such a young looking boy in front of you. He’s clearly very handsome with his full lips and his beautifully round nose. His hair looks so soft you consciously tell yourself not to reach out and touch it. 

“You must be Justin,” you say and he nods. “I’m Y/N. Welcome,” you smile and step aside so he can enter your apartment. You technically have a roommate, but she technically has a boyfriend and rarely spends evenings in your home anymore, so you’re home alone. There are situations in which that might worry you, but you always tell her who is coming over and when if someone is coming over to work, just in case, and Justin looks far too innocent for you to worry. In fact, he’s so innocent looking you’re starting to wonder just what kind of payment you’re going to extract from the kid, because he’s clearly not prepared for you to ruin him, nor are you prepared to mess with something so pure. Maybe you can convince him to order a pizza. 

“Thanks for letting me come over,” he says politely, nervously clutching to the strap of his backpack. 

“Sure, no problem. You said it’s drawing class?” you ask as he stands awkwardly in your living room. 

“Yeah. We’re doing faces this week, and I didn’t know who to ask, so that graduate student, Zhengting, gave me your number,” he explained. You knew the drill. 

“Please have a seat. The lighting over here is pretty good, but if you think we should change something just let me know.” You gesture to the seating area where there’s a couch and a chair and invite him to sit wherever he wants. “Do you want some water or something?”

“No. I’m okay,” he says timidly. He takes a seat on the couch, so you decide to sit in the chair. He rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans before he unzips his backpack and pulls out his supplies. 

"How do you want me?" you ask once he's settled.

"Just make yourself comfortable," he smiles nervously. You wonder if he'll even be able to draw through the nerves he's been displaying since he knocked on your door. 

You're tired from the day so you lean back into the chair and allow your head to rest against the side. Your head is slightly angled up. Your curl one leg in toward you and let the other dangle over the armrest.

"Is this okay?"

He gets up to move from the cushion at the end of the couch farthest from you to the center. "Can you turn your face just an inch toward me?" You do. "That's perfect."

You relax and he begins sketching. You think about talking, to find out more about him, but you aren't really interested; you're just a little bored. You put on some music and sit patiently.

“How’s it coming?” you ask a while later after you notice that the scratching of his pencil has stopped for almost a minute. 

He shakes his head a bit, as if to clear it. “Um. Fine. There’s just something a little...off, I think?” he looks from his drawing to you and back several times. 

“Can I see?” you ask casually. He nods and you rise from your chair to come sit very close to him. Your knee touches his and your biceps brush as you lean in to look at his work. He can smell your coconut shampoo. You take a moment to observe the details closely. Not only are you familiar with your own face, but you also have a lot of experience seeing it drawn. You know which are the features that many find it difficult to capture. Honestly, his work is pretty good, but he’s right. “It’s my mouth,” you tell him. “You’ve got the shape a bit off.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, looking again. 

You turn around so that you're still close to him but now you're facing him, sitting back on your heels with your hands resting on your bare thighs. “See, take a closer look,” you tell him, trying to angle your face like it was before. You can hear his slightly heavy breathing as he observes you. It takes him a second to gather his thoughts after looking at your slightly parted lips. He lifts his hand to capture your chin between his thumb and index fingers and tilts your face more toward him. He's still staring at your lips, soft and pink from your compulsive use to lip balm.

"You're really beautiful, Y/n," he says quietly. You're so close he barely needs to speak at all. He can't help himself when he brushes his thumb along the edge of your full bottom lip. The move takes you by surprise with its boldness. He expects you to pull away, but he sees you swallow and he hand cups your jaw before slowly moving down to caress your neck. "I'm sorry. It’s just that I've been staring at your lips for so long and I...can I kiss you?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to yours.

There's something really charming to you about his mix of nerves and audacity. He just met you. You're two years older than him. And when he walked in you told yourself you were not going to destroy this boy's innocence. But what harm could there be in a kiss. His lips are full and red and you would like to know what they felt like on yours.

"Yes," you nod.

He slowly closes the distance between his face and yours, angling you once again to have you where he wants you. It's as chaste as you expect at first. Nothing more than the pressing together of lips, like pilgrims hands. He pulls away and smiles a slightly arrogant smile, like he's proud of himself, you think. He's not proud of what he's done, but rather what he plans to do. His fingers entangle in your hair and he pulls you to him this time, pressing your lips together more deliberately. He captures your bottom lip between his, pulling gently to open your mouth before releasing you. You place both your hands on his neck to keep him from pulling away and capture his lips again, grazing your teeth along his pillowy bottom lip. Your tongues come out to meet and you notice how considerate he was to brush his teeth before he came over. 

Justin puts his sketchbook down on the seat beside him. He places both hands on your hips to pull you onto his lap, and you wonder for the first time if he's actually as innocent and pure as he looks. You go with it regardless and wind your fingers into his hair as your tongues dance. He pulls your pelvis tight down against him and moans softly into your mouth, making your core ache and fill with need. You _need_ to get control of yourself, but he's such a good kisser, using exactly the right amount of tongue and not too much slobber. If nothing else, he's certainly experienced at this. His hands run down to your ass and give you a squeeze before continuing to your thighs. He rubs them firmly while you make a conscious effort not to grind on him as you can feel him hardening beneath you. This has been fun, but you need to stop before you do something you'll regret, and you almost can't believe you're thinking that because you never stop and you never regret. But you pull away anyway, giving his hair a slight tug as his lips try to follow yours. 

You clear your throat. "You probably need to finish that," you say, trying to sound normal and not aroused, but there’s still a huskiness to your voice. 

Justin looks to the sketchbook to his right and sighs. He picks it up and holds it between you as you lean back onto his knees. You know you should move but you sense he doesn't want you to. He erases a portion of your lip that he's drawn to adjust the curve of it so it's right. 

"There," he says showing it to you when he's done.

You take the sketchbook from his hands and slowly stand from his lap as you examine it. "You're really talented," you tell him as you consider the extremely lifelike rendition of your face.

"Thank you. You're a good model," he compliments you. He slowly packs his supplies away to give himself time to settle down. You give him back the sketchbook and linger between him and the door. He picks up the message that it's time to leave and stands with a sigh.

"I guess I owe you. Coffee or something? Maybe tomorrow?" He offers, hoping you’ll say yes and maybe he can actually get to know you.

"No, I think I've already collected my payment," you smile slyly. 

He chuckles. "Mm then maybe we can do this again sometime?" He clutches the strap of his backpack, his nerves having returned.

"Sure. Let me know anytime you need a muse," you smile. He smiles back and quickly leaves when you open the door.

You throw yourself onto the couch and grin remembering his hands and lips on you and his minty breath on your face. You check your phone.

[ ](https://ibb.co/yWD2zGt)

In his class that week Justin turns in his portrait of you, now decorated in full color. The professor takes in and gives it a cursory glance. 

“Ah, the famous Ms. Y/n,” he smiles knowingly at Justin, who blushes and smiles broadly in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the moment this work includes the boys of NEXT, but may expand to include other Idol Producer boys, if I feel like going that way. If you have a request, comment or suggestion, I would love to hear from your in the comments. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy my gratuitous smut developing in my lonely, sex-starved brain. I am new to this level of smut writing, so if I failed to give you an appropriate warning please tell me politely and I will be sure update it and be mindful of any warnings or triggers in the future. I apologize in advance for any mistakes.
> 
> (I'm sorry I have a nervous habit of over explaining myself, but I can't help it. Please let me know about any misunderstandings)
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


	2. Zhengting: "I'll by you new leggings"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Zhengting x female reader  
> Genre: smut
> 
> You run into Zhengting at the library, but he's got more than studying on his mind.
> 
> Warnings: explicit language, public sexual encounter, derogatory terms (but you shut that shit down),

Zhengting was a graduate student. He had been a TA for one of your art history classes last year. You didn’t sleep with him at the time--you have some principles--but the two of you eye fucked each other all semester long. You hooked up a few times in the spring when he wasn’t in charge of your grades anymore, and once over the summer, too. You aren't surprised to find him in the library on a Tuesday night. Well, it would be more accurate to say he finds you. He came looking for a book for his thesis when he saw you typing away on your laptop. There were rarely people in this section of the stacks because there weren’t many art majors who spent a whole lot of time in the library, and it was a pretty remote corner. Zhengting continues on his way to find his book after he sees you, but he circles back around after, like it’s a coincidence. 

“Hey, Y/n,” you hear muffled over the sound of the instrumental music coming from your ear buds. He’s standing in front of you, across the table and your eyes follow all the way up from his hips to his thin, angular face, his light brown hair curls over his forehead. You pull one earbud out. 

“Oh, hey, Zhengting,” you smile. 

"Did that kid Justin get it touch with you?" he asks, standing with the book he picked up in one hand and his other hand in his pocket. 

"Yeah," you say with a laugh.

He catches the look in your eye when you think about Justin on your couch. "Oh, no, you didn't ruin him did you?" he asks, his head turning to the side.

"No! I didn't. We just...made out a little bit," you admit.

"Y/n!" he says loudly in mock indignation. 

"Shh! Zhengting!” you hiss, wanting him to not yell your name in the library. “It was just a little bit." You blush.

"You're such a whore for artists." He shakes his head at you. 

“Oh, please. Centuries of male artists having their way with as many women as they wanted, but I’m not allowed to love men. To admire and appreciate their bodies?” you scoff.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. "Whatever. You mind if I sit?" 

"Sure,” you shrug. 

There’s plenty of room at this table for both of you, but you’re surprised when, of the three empty chairs, he chooses to sit in the one to your left. You slide some of your stuff over a few inches to give him some space. He settles and opens his book like he’s going to read it, but he has no such intention. He pretends for long enough for you to go back to writing your paper. It takes you a minute to get your train of thought back and refocus on impressionism, but you get there. 

After you’ve written a couple of sentences, you feel Zhengting’s warm hand on your thigh just above your knee. You look down at it, his pale broad hand sitting in stark contrast to the thin black leggings you’re wearing under a red cotton dress. You’re not quite sure what you should do. Zhengting likes to play. It’s like that game you used to play in high school where someone would put their hand on your thigh and slowly inched upward to test you until you said it was too much. That’s exactly what Zhengting is doing now. He wants to see if you’ll tell him to stop and when. You should definitely tell him to stop, but you don’t want to. You want to see just how far he’ll take it. Is he bluffing? Would he really try to touch you in the library? Will you let him? 

He hasn’t moved his hand yet, not up, down or away. It’s just sitting there and after looking at his long fingers for a second you look back up at your computer screen without looking in his direction, playing along with his little sexual game of chicken. You hear him huff a laugh through the smile that must be plastered across his face, and now you’re pretending to read, too. He slides his hand a couple of inches up your leg, and your eyes involuntarily flick downward before coming up again without acknowledging him in any other way, but you know he’s looking at your face. Since he hasn’t been able to get to you yet he continues his journey toward the top of your thigh, pushing your dress up. He’s moving very slowly and gives your flesh a squeeze when he reaches your thickest part. His strong fingers knead into you, causing your heat to clench around nothing. 

You clear your throat and look at him finally. “Can I help you?” you snark. 

“I’m just wondering if I can help you,” he responds. 

“How would you help me?” You’re dying to know. 

“Well, you said you and Justin only made out last night. Knowing you, I’d guess that got you all high and tense. I bet you could use a little release.” His eyes have grown dark and his fingers have slipped from your inner thigh to your core, giving you just enough pressure to let you know he’s there. 

“What makes you think I didn’t take care of myself?” you smirk. 

He shrugs. “I was just checking,” he says, pulling his hand away. 

You grab his wrist and look him in the eyes. “Don’t start something you aren’t going to finish, Zhu.”

His eyebrow twitches as his smile grows. He leans closer to you and returns his hand to cup your mound. 

“Get back to work,” he says, jerking his chin toward your laptop. You twist your face up in a smile as you turn your face forward again, returning your hands to a typing position. He places his fingers flat over your covered opening, having to make some space for his hand between your closed thighs. You hear him gasp quietly when he bends his middle finger to graze your slit. 

“You aren’t wearing underwear, are you?” he asks in a quiet, sultry voice. 

You giggle. “Nope.” You desperately need to do laundry, but you’ve been too lazy and not had the time.

“You slut,” he teases. 

You turn to him seriously. “Don’t call me a slut.”

“Oh, honey. I love it,” he assures you, but you’re not kidding. You can’t stand that word. You stare him down. “Fine, got it. You are a very naughty girl, though. Coming to the library with no panties, like you wanted me to touch you,” he smirks. 

You turn back to your screen, as if you’re no longer interested in the firm strokes he’s giving you, but you’re not telling him to stop and you both know you don’t want him to. He can feel your heat and as he works over you he can feel your slick leaking out to wet your crotch. 

“Oh, honey. I am going to ruin these leggings,” he mutters. You say nothing as he rubs circles around your most sensitive part. You’d been doing a pretty good job of acting unbothered up until that point, but now your hips jump in your seat. He feels the pulse of your clenching and drives his fingers down again, pushing your leggings into your folds as he goes. He’s enjoying the way you’re drenching your pants for him and he pushes harder, pressing into your yearning entrance. Your mouth falls open and your tongue sneaks out to wet your lips. Your leggings are old, getting threadbare, and Zhengting has just discovered the beginning of a hole in your crotch. He can feel your juice on his finger tip and he stops his movement for a moment before he digs his finger into the small hole, widening it.

“Oh my god,” he breaths, and you’re both a little lost in the headiness of this sudden turn. Zhengting’s finger is against your swollen flesh and all you can think of is having more. He seems to be thinking the same thing as he scoots his chair an inch or two closer to you. He pushes his finger deeper inside the hole, feeling your folds now. He dips his finger into your essence and sighs. Zhengting remembers loving the taste of you, and he’s wishing you weren’t in the library anymore. He’s considering throwing you on the table in front of him and making a meal of you. 

“I’ll buy you new leggings,” he says just before he tears the hole wider, making your mouth drop open. He probes his finger inside of you, but can’t get very far with the angle you're sitting at. Without a word you slump in your chair a little, pushing your hips forward, and spread your knees apart so he can squeeze his finger inside of you, both of you sighing. 

“Fuck. Have I ever told you how much I like your pussy?” he breathes in your ear, causing you to let your head fall back. He has actually, every time you two are together like this, but you’re not tired of hearing it. 

“So fucking tight and wet,” he moans softly as he pushes another finger inside of you all the way up to your sweet spot and dragging the pads of his fingers back down against your wall. There are no words in your head to respond. You’re trying so hard not to make any sound at all as you grip your chair. He pulls his fingers back out to rub firm circles over your clit. 

“Fuck, Zhengting,” you hiss, surprised how fast you’re rocketing toward your peak. 

“You’re loving this aren’t you?” he laughs, as if he’s not. “You love me getting you off in the library, you dirty girl,” he breathes. 

You bite your lips between your teeth trying desperately to hold in your cries of pleasure as the tension builds in your stomach. You hear the ding of the elevator behind you and freeze, but he doesn’t stop. 

Zhengting’s lips are against your ear. “You better come before they do,” he commands while he moves his fingers harder and faster against you. You hear footsteps coming in your direction and close your eyes tight. 

“Fuck,” you gasp when you hit your climax. 

Normally Zhengting would tease you through your shudders, driving you crazy, but he doesn’t wait to withdraw his fingers. You fall forward, burying your head in your arms on the table while he licks you off his fingers. He wipes his saliva on your leggings and you can only laugh because he already promised to replace them. The person who got off the elevator walks by you none the wiser. 

“Oh my god,” you sigh happily, leaning back in your chair. You wipe the back of your hand across your forehead for the thin layer of sweat.

Zhengting laughs, too. “Can I drive you home?” he offers. 

“Can you? You’d better. I’m not walking across campus to my apartment with my leggings ripped open,” you tell him quietly. 

He shrugs. “The breeze might be refreshing.” You both laugh again. You gather your things and wait impatiently, squeezing your legs together, while he checks out his book at the circulation desk. Your dress is definitely covering you, but you still feel vulnerable. 

He walks you out to his car and opens the door for you, which would seem gentlemanly if you didn’t know that it was because the automatic locks on his old beat up car don’t work, and if he hadn’t just fingered you in public.

“Your place or mine?” he asks as he starts the car. 

You scoff. “Oh, so you think you should get off now, too?” you say in a tone that makes it clear he won’t.

“Can’t blame me for trying,” he laughs. He navigates easily to your apartment from memory. “Well, that was fun,” he says as he parks in front of your building. 

“Yeah, let’s do it again sometime,” you grin and wink, knowing you will. You open the door and step out, holding down the back of your dress with your hand. “Oh, and don’t forget you owe me leggings!” you turn back to say before closing the door on his laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the moment this work includes the boys of NEXT, but may expand to include other Idol Producer boys, if I feel like going that way. If you have a request, comment or suggestion, I would love to hear from your in the comments. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy my gratuitous smut developing in my lonely, sex-starved brain. I am new to this level of smut writing, so if I failed to give you an appropriate warning please tell me politely and I will be sure update it and be mindful of any warnings or triggers in the future. I apologize in advance for any mistakes.
> 
> (I'm sorry I have a nervous habit of over explaining myself, but I can't help it. Please let me know about any misunderstandings)
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


	3. Quanzhe: "I only take payment up front"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Quanzhe x reader  
> Genre: smut, crack
> 
> Summary: You do sexual favors do get Quanzhe to delete an embarrassing video of you.
> 
> Warnings: oral sex (male receiving), blackmail, explicit language 
> 
> A/n: OMG it literally wasn’t until the third or fourth read of this that I realized this is literally a porno. But anyway. Had similar dilemmas with Quanzhe as Justin, HOWEVER Quanzhe is in his 20s now, and idk I guess I feel like he’s grown up a bit?

You completely forget you told Quanzhe you would help him with his film project. He'd asked you two weeks ago when the project was assigned but he procrastinated as usual and after he'd finally set up a time with you, you totally forgot. 

It wasn't a big deal though because the plan was to meet up at your place. You're at home, spending your Wednesday afternoon cleaning and finally doing your laundry. You dance around to the music blasting around your apartment while you swiffer the floor. It's not efficient, but hey at least you're having fun. You're wearing nothing but an old t-shirt and plain white cotton panties. 

Quanzhe arrives at your apartment and knocks on the door but you can't hear him over the music and you screaming the lyrics to Mr. Brightside into the handle of your swiffer like it's a microphone stand and you're back in the year 2005. He figures you can't hear based on how much he can hear. He decides he'll try the handle but not before he gets his camera ready because he knows just how much of a dork you really are and how frequently you do embarrassing things. He finds your randomness as charming as you find his weirdness and that's really the foundation of your friendship. He turns on the camera and turns the handle, letting himself into your apartment. 

You're screaming the words to the song with so much passion your eyes are closed and he gets at least ten seconds of hilarious footage of you playing Rockstar in your undies before you even notice him. The song ends and you go back to cleaning the floor when you hear him chuckle in the silence between tracks. 

"What the..?" You look up to see him pointing his camera at you. "Shit!" You yell, turning to get your phone and turn off the music. "Fuck!" you mutter as you trip over your own feet. 

Quanzhe's in stitches, unable to hold the camera steady, but he's still recording.

"Haha. Very funny. Did you enjoy the show?" You ask, turning back to him, one hand on the green handle still and the other outstretched to your stage.

"Yeah, everyone else will, too," he grins. 

"Nuh uh. Delete it," you order, pointing your finger at his camera.

Quanzhe comes closer to you, panning from your bare feet up your legs, over your thin t-shirt and up to your angry face.

"Why should I?" 

"Because I'm asking nicely," you try to smile like you're someone who's sweet and cute. 

"Mmm?" He shakes the camera side to side as if it were his head. 

"Fine, then I won't help you with your project," you pout.

"Fine. I'll go find someone else," he shrugs.

"Ugh! What's it gonna take?" You'll do anything to delete that video. 

He hums as he thinks. “You could let me feel that pretty mouth of yours," he suggests.

"Seriously?" You arch an eyebrow. You have had exactly one encounter with Quanzhe before, and it was good, but not something you thought he was interested in repeating. But it was just a blow job, which was worth not having people see you singing horribly in your very unsexy underwear.

Quanzhe nods, but he still hasn't stopped recording.

"Deal. But you have to delete the video first," you tell him.

"I only take payment up front," he says.

You put down the swiffer and take a step toward him. With one hand you find the record button while the other reaches for the bulge in Quanzhe's pants.

"C'mon, buddy, you know I'm good for it," you say low and sultry as your palm presses over him, feeling him grow beneath it.

Quanzhe pulls in a jagged breath and hands the camera over to you. He lets you delete the video while he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. His jeans and his boxers fall to the floor and he shuffles them off his feet. Then he leans his bare ass against your couch and strokes himself while he waits for you. You delete the video and double check the album to make sure it's completely gone. You place the camera on the kitchen counter, away from him so he can't get any ideas about filming you during the act.

"Well, you're just ready to go, aren't you?" You tease, bitchiness being the regular way you two communicate. 

"It's lucky for me you're so embarrassing because I've been super horny all day," he tells you.

"Let's get this over with so we can get to work," you say as you sink to your knees. 

Quanzhe lets go of himself so you can take over and grips the back of the couch. He's moaning immediately at your firm touch as you glide over his considerable length. You add your other hand to work his shaft while you place kitten licks underneath him and lap up the drop of pre-cum slipping out of his tip. He shivers.

"Take off your shirt," he commands before you get any further, and you do it without even thinking. Then your back on him, taking just his head into your mouth and sucking off slowly. "Fuu-u-uuuuck," he shudders at the slow sensation. 

You take him in again and run your tongue over all the veins and ridges of his head and his shaft as you slowly take in more and more of him. There's so much of him though, and you're still using your hand to pump the parts you can't reach without choking yourself. As you work your way closer to his base, he takes his shirt off too so he can see himself disappearing into you more easily. 

"Yes, Y/n. Your tongue is so good," he breathes as you drag it over him while you bob up and down on him.

Eventually your jaw and your throat relax and you can get almost all of him into your mouth.

"Let me see that pretty face," Quanzhe says as he gathers your hair back in his hands.

"Can I fuck your pretty face, babe?" He asks sweetly and you hum around him in agreement. 

Quanzhe pushes himself off the back of the couch and begins to thrust himself into your mouth, forcing himself into your throat. It hurts at first, but you start to relax. He's still holding onto your head by your hair as he hits the back of you and tears come down your cheeks as you choke on him. His grunts mingle with the lewd, wet sounds coming from your mouth and as you take him in over and over again. 

"Fuck, Y/n," he moans. "Can I come on your face?" 

You respond by hollowing your cheeks and giving him one good suck all the way up his shaft till you pop off. He strokes his dick fast and shoots thick warm ropes of cum over your mouth, cheeks, and even your eye.

"Shit. Sorry, dude," he says breathily, his body still shaking from his orgasm. He's pleasantly surprised to hear your laughter.

"Well that's a first," you laugh loudly, feeling around for your shirt so you can wipe his seed off your eyelid. 

"What?" 

"I've never had someone call me 'dude' right after painting my face with semen," you say oh so delicately. 

"Sorry," he says again.

"It's okay, dude," you smile as you stand and go to the bathroom to wash your face while dresses himself.

You come back a minute later, still wearing nothing but your underwear since you just used your shirt as a cum rag. You walk over to the dryer and pull all your clothes out, telling him to follow you to your bedroom where you throw your clean clothes on the bed and tell him to pick out something for you to wear for his film. You go back to the bathroom and brush your teeth.

When you're back again he's picked out a pretty flower patterned dress and a light sweater. He watches you, in a strangely disinterested way as you dress yourself and brush your hair. 

"Ready?" You ask when you are. He nods and you go back to the kitchen to give him his camera.

"Hey, you're okay, right? I didn't hurt you?" He asks, looking down at you and then his camera in his hands.

"Quanzhe, you're so sweet." You shake your head. "I'm fine. C'mon, we are losing daylight."


	4. Zeren: “You know you’re my favorite meal, beautiful.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Zeren x female reader  
> Genre: smut, angst
> 
> Summary: You and Zeren are friends with benefits, but of course it’s a bit more complicated than that.
> 
> Warnings: explicit language, oral sex (female receiving), sex

[](https://ibb.co/Pz57G3D)

"Hello, gorgeous," Zeren says when he opens the door to you, wearing the black wrap dress he told you to wear, even though he said he only needed your hands. Whatever, you're just the model. You just do what you're told. He’s in his typical fitted white t-shirt tucked into belted black skinny jeans, showing off his narrow hips.

"Hello, darling," you reply. Zeren doesn't do that cutesy, juvenile stuff. He's not into the baby/daddy/girl thing. He likes to think he's more sophisticated than that. With him you're always 'gorgeous' or 'beautiful'. 

It's a semi-regular thing with you two. Zeren thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen and he loves to invite you over to look at you through the lens of his camera, although that's usually just an excuse. He wants more of you, but he knows you want more than him, so for now he takes what he can get. 

His studio apartment is more studio than apartment. A single wide room with a white drop sheet hanging over one wall, his twin sized bed smushed into a corner, almost unnoticeable. He instructs you through various sets, capturing your hands holding various things. He writes "Make Art Not War" on the back of your hand and photographs it over your mouth. He continues to snap pictures of your face until you're laughing.

“You said you just wanted my hands. I didn’t even wear any makeup today,” you complain. 

“You never wear makeup,” he reminds you. 

“Sometimes I do, if I know I’m going to have my picture taken.”

“You don’t need it. You’re beautiful,” he says, snapping another picture. 

“Are we done here?” you ask.

“You have somewhere to be?” His head pops up curiously from behind the camera. 

“No,” you shrug. “I mean, I should probably be studying because I’ve had a kind of crazy week…”

“Stay. We can order Chinese. We haven’t talked in a while,” he says, and you know he wants to do more than talk. You think about saying no, but your stomach growls and so he’s already pulling out his phone to order your usual. You do stay. You sit on his countertop eating your orange chicken and drinking beer while he tells you funny stories about his family. You’ve known Zeren for so long, since high school. You know each other's families and exes and so many other things. He feeds you some of his sweet and sour pork when you ask, watching your lips close around his food as he does. He sets his food down and takes a drink to clear his mouth before he looks back at you licking your lips. He puts his warm hands on your thighs and rubs them while standing in front of you. 

“Whatcha doin?” you ask, smiling.

“I’m ready for my second course,” he smiles back. 

“Oh?”

“You know you’re my favorite meal, beautiful.” His hands rub firmly up your legs, his thumbs kneading into the apex of your thighs.

You set down your own food and drink the rest of your beer, never breaking eye contact with him as you drink him in too. A strip of black hair has fallen out onto his forehead and he’s looking at you intently with his black eyes. His hands have ventured all the way under your skirt up to your hips and he pulls you to the edge of the countertop. Without a thought your legs open to bring him between them, pulling him into you as you lower your head slightly to meet his lips with yours. There’s so much need in the way your lips press together, but it’s still soft. His warm breath caresses your lips as his part to introduce his tongue. He runs the pink tip across your bottom lip. You grab him by the back of the head to bring him into you, licking into his mouth at the same time. 

Without breaking your kiss he slides his hands from his hips under your ass to pull you all the way against him and you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck so he can carry you to his bed. He places you there with a little bounce. He gives you one more lingering kiss before he pulls back. 

He tugs slowly at the tie keeping your dress wrapped around you, unwrapping you like a present. He asked you to wear the dress with this exact moment in mind, and he’s enjoying every second of it. He likes the faked annoyance in your expression, the smile that says you think he’s ridiculous even though you love how beautiful and sexy he makes you feel. Your skin is on fire, ready to have him touching you again, need coursing through your veins. He likes watching the fabric slowly fall apart to reveal your lacy black bra, your skin flushed with anticipation, the slight lifting of your breasts as you breathe in and out, your heart racing already. He leans back down to brush his hand from your knee, up your thigh, over your lace covered hip. His hand starts to slow, dragging over the curve of your side. He doesn’t linger over your covered breast as he makes his way to move your dress off, using the lightest of touches across the plateau of your shoulder, flowing behind with light kisses as you bend your neck in the other direction to offer him more. His fingers continue to caress down your arm until it’s free of your dress. He uses the same hand to wrap around your back, lifting you up to whip the garment from under you and off your other arm in a swift motion, contrasting with his previously slow movements. Now the fabric is gone, he lays you back on the bed and trails kisses down to your soft breasts. He has no intention of removing your bra, enjoying the way it looks on you. 

“I wish you would let me take pictures of you like his,” he breathes against your solar plexus. 

You laugh lightly, bringing your chest more against his lips. “You know I can’t give you that kind of power over me,” you rasp as he teases your nerves. 

“What are you afraid of?” he smirks. 

“Revenge.”

He returns to kissing your neck so he can talk to you. “I would never.”

“Never say never.”

He brings his head up to look at you seriously, his hands on either side of your head. “I know who you are, Y/n. It would be lovely if I could have you all to myself, but I don’t hold that against you. I never will.”

You’re starting to feel uncomfortable. He’s the only one who actually makes you feel a little bad for your habits, because you know he wants more. You sigh. “I’m not wifey material,” you joke, trying to hide.

He chuckles and goes back to kissing your neck. “I know. But I like you the way you are.” 

“Stop talking and get to work,” you moan, because if he doesn’t you may have to run. 

“Of course, gorgeous,” he says, returning his hands to caress your ass. 

He trails kisses down your chest and your stomach. You’ve got him back on track and he remembers what he wanted in the first place. He hooks his fingers under the black lace of your panties and you lift your pointed feet straight in the air as he drags them off. His hands glide back down your legs as he kneels on the floor just off his bed. He pushes your legs apart to open you up for him. He doesn’t hesitate in licking a wide stripe over your glistening hole up to your clit, making you shiver. His rhythm keeps your desire on edge. Slow, slow, fast. Sensual. Passionate. Needy. Strong fingers press into your thighs as he nips at your lips with his own before licking his tongue into your folds. His tongue gets lost in your entrance, pushing against your walls, against your sweet spot, making you moan. He comes out again to lick up to your clit, sucking your nerves gently into his mouth and licking you with the tip of his tongue. It’s too much and he knows it but he loves the way it makes your hips jump and your walls clench. He releases to press the softest of kisses to your nub relieving the sharpness. Slow, slow, fast. 

Slow. He settles, giving you kitten licks over your sensitive arousal before he finally gives you the rhythmic circular pressure you need. Your feet on his shoulders pull him into you. 

“Zeren,” you breathe, writhing against his mouth, making him smile as he slides two fingers into your entrance, only going far enough to massage your sweet part, nice and slow, just a compliment to the motions of his tongue that slowly urge you toward orgasm. He doesn’t care how long it takes to get you there. He won’t stop until your hips stutter and he can feel your pulsing heat against his lips. He doesn’t torture you like some guys do, keeping on until it’s too much. Instead, he gives you a couple of soft kisses on your pulsing skin, on your inner thighs, on your stomach moving up and down as you catch your breath. He licks his lips and wipes at his chin before he comes to kiss your mouth. He kneels on the bed to hover over you, and you wish he wasn’t still fully clothed so you could feel his skin against yours instead of just the cool air. You clutch at his shirt to pull it out of his jeans and over his head. 

“Ready for me?” he chuckles. 

“Dying for you, darling,” you breathe, dragging your hands down his chest until you get to his belt. You unbuckle it with frantic hands, and he loves your eagerness, but he doesn’t help you. You jerk the belt harshly through the belt loops, pulling his hips a little, drawing out that sweet soft chuckle of his. Quickly, you unbutton and unzip his jeans, pulling them down while he reaches over you to grab a condom from his nightstand. His thick member sticks out in front of your face for a moment and you stroke him while he struggles with the wrapper, kneeling on the bed in front of you. Once he’s got it on you grab his hips and flip him onto the bed, his back landing hard, making the springs squeak. 

“Slow down, gorgeous,” he laughs, centering himself on the bed. 

“I want you,” you groan as you straddle him, anxious to feel him inside of you. 

You place his head at your dripping entrance, quivering at the first touch, excited for how you know he’s going to stretch you out with his girth. You know to take it slow, but you like to control it. You lower yourself onto him, loving the way his eyes roll back in his head at the feeling of your tight walls slowly taking him in. He tries hard not to move, not to thrust into you so he can feel all of you at once. He knows he has time if he’s just patient. You pull up a little before pushing yourself lower, both of you letting out a moan. You reach back to unclasp your bra and massage your breasts, rubbing over your nipples with your thumbs while his hands push your hips just slightly to bring your even lower. You love the feeling of him stretching you out, of him sliding across all of your slick walls, and you feel like absolute heaven to him, squeezing perfectly around his hard cock. You make it all the way down, taking all of him in, and once you're ready you begin to bounce on him slowly. Zeren doesn’t rush you. He enjoys having you long and slow, and he doesn’t make you work too hard. 

When it’s too much for your legs alone you lean forward to place your hands on either side of his head and look into his eyes. His hands are still on your hips and he thrusts his own up to meet gently with yours. Your bouncing tits draw his eyes away from yours and he brings his head up to catch one in his mouth, making you throw your head back in pleasure as he sucks on your tender flesh. When he pulls back and looks at your lusty eyes he’s ready to take back control. 

He pulls your hips against him to flip you over so you’re on your back, trapped under him as he presses his chest against yours, letting you feel his warm skin all over your own. You wrap your legs around him as he thrusts into you faster and harder, sending waves of pleasure through your core. You lose all sense of time as he kisses and sucks all over your throat and chest. Your hands cling desperately to his back and shoulders while he fucks you into the bed, moaning and cursing and calling his name over and over again while his length fills you up. 

When he feels himself getting close to climax he sits back on his heels, continuing his thrusts into you. He wets his thumb with his saliva and rubs circles on your clit, wanting to feel you clench around him while he comes. It doesn’t take you long, watching the look of intense concentration on his face under his dark sweaty hair as he tries to bring you both to your conclusion. His head falls backward for a moment as he feels your convulsions around him. 

He falls over you again as his own orgasm comes, giving you sloppy, open-mouthed kisses while he fills the condom. He stutters a few more pumps into you before he stills, his whole body molding into yours. You hold him tight and run your fingers through his sweaty hair while his breathing slows, but he stays in you while he goes soft without losing much of his size. 

Eventually he peels himself off of you to go dispose of the condom and clean himself up. He returns to you a minute later with a warm, wet washcloth to clean you with. He sits beside you and smiles at you tenderly while he wipes sweat from your face and your neck. He cleans your swollen warmth. And then he gets in bed beside you to hold you. 

This is when you start to feel really guilty. You know Zeren doesn’t fuck you, but makes love to you. You know he holds you tenderly because he wants you to be his, even if he knows he can’t have you, at least not all of you. You want too much and he genuinely doesn’t hate you for it. He accepts it because he knows you are too much. You’re expansive, encompassing, and he doesn’t want to hold you down. He just wants to hold you. It becomes a pit in your stomach. He feels you fidget. 

“Please stay,” he whispers. 

“Zeren,” you whine just a little. 

“I know. Okay. I know it doesn’t mean for you what it means for me, but I don’t care,” he tells you. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You really don’t. You really like Zeren, but you know yourself. You like a lot of men. You’re not ashamed of it. You just wish it didn’t make it so hard on him. 

He shrugs. “I’ve made peace with it. Obviously, you can leave if you want to, but I’m not asking for more than you sleeping here. It’s late.” He kisses your forehead.

You sigh and lean into him, but he can still feel your tension. He lifts your chin to look at him. 

“Don’t worry about me. Really. I’m happy if you’re just here sometimes.”

“That’s really enough for you?”

“Let’s not pretend that you’re the only one I’m sleeping with either,” he says seriously. “We’ve known each other for so long, Y/n. If it weren’t for Chengcheng I would’ve been sure to be your first. Who knows where we would be then. But that’s beside the point. I’m not sitting around with my heart aching for you. I can watch you do what you want, as long as you know I’ll be here for you whenever you want me.”

“Even if you have someone else over?” you laugh.

“If you text me before you show up, I’ll make sure I’m here alone,” he promises with a smile. 

“You’re too much,” you smile. You hope he means what he says, not about being available for you, but about being okay. You decide to take him at his word and settle back into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the moment this work includes the boys of NEXT, but may expand to include other Idol Producer boys, if I feel like going that way. If you have a request, comment or suggestion, I would love to hear from your in the comments. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy my gratuitous smut developing in my lonely, sex-starved brain. I am new to this level of smut writing, so if I failed to give you an appropriate warning please tell me politely and I will be sure update it and be mindful of any warnings or triggers in the future. I apologize in advance for any mistakes.
> 
> (I'm sorry I have a nervous habit of over explaining myself, but I can't help it. Please let me know about any misunderstandings)
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


	5. Wenjun: "I like to get my hands dirty”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Wenjun x female reader  
> Genre: smut
> 
> Summary: You and Wenjun have been watching each other for a while, and you finally get the chance to act on your fantasies. 
> 
> Warnings: hand kink, daddy kink (daddy, baby, princes, etc.) fingering, oral sex (both receiving), sex, light alcohol consumption, smoking
> 
> A/n: So, back when I wrote [Tall Baby Bi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26823238) I made the choice not to include any smut, to keep my character's story sweet. I was a little disappointed since I've basically fantasized about his hands since I first saw him, but now I got to write this and it was extremely satisfying. I hope you enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL. Just WOW. I knew that I was lacking in NEXT smut, but I didn't realize everyone was. I was not at all prepared for the response this has gotten in such a short period of time. If I had known we all needed it so badly I would have started soon. I hope you continue to enjoy this series as much as I enjoy writing it.

Wenjun is in your ceramics class. He’s pretty quiet, always very focused on bringing the perfect shape to the wet clay circling between his fingers. Somehow, he always ends up sitting right in your line of sight whenever you are at the pottery wheel. The time you spent thinking about his long thin fingers being pressed into you left you trying to convince your professor that your projects were meant to be representational, not functional. But you struggled for an answer when he asked what they were supposed to represent. _My desire_ you thought. You always left ceramics class a little wet and wanting after watching Wenjun work with his hands. You wanted nothing more than to watch his hands work on you. You’d had more than one _Ghost_ fantasy while you touched yourself in bed on Thursday nights, after you’d usually worked on projects in that class.

You try to ignore your fantasies as you look at Wenjun across Zhengting’s apartment. He’s got a glass of white wine clutched in the delicate hand. You always try hard to ignore his face, because even though thinking about him burying those long fingers in your core makes you breathe heavy, looking at his actual face makes you practically unable to breathe at all. Still, you can’t stop your eyes from drifting up when he raises the glass to his lips for a sip. Your eyes linger there even when he’s had enough. You’re too busy watching his tongue slip out between his heart-shaped lips to notice that he’s looking right at you when he does it. You’d blush if you realized how observant Bi Wenjun really is. 

Zhengting follows Wenjun’s line of sight straight to you and waves you over. It was a mark of just how detached from each other you two really are that he’s ready to serve you up to Wenjun on a silver platter. Zhengting is definitely looking to fuck tonight, but he has his eye on a sophomore painting student, although he would definitely take you tonight if he was desperate. But that doesn’t mean he would try to stop you from hooking up with someone else. He’s not a dick. 

You pick up on Zhengting’s not-at-all subtle signal and walk your way around the perimeter of his living room to where the pair are standing. You thought Zhengting was tall, towering over you as he did, but Wenjun is a fucking monster, and you can’t help but wonder if all of his body is as exaggeratedly long as his legs and his fingers. 

“Hey,” you say casually, trying to push back thoughts of Wenjun’s length. 

“Hey, Y/N, this is Wenjun. Wenjun, Y/N,” Zhengting says, gesturing between you two. He knows for sure you’ve never slept together, because Zhengting knows about all the complicated connections in the art department. It’s his favorite flavor of tea. 

“Hi, Wenjun, nice to finally meet you,” you say as your hand touches his for the first time in a handshake. 

“Oh?” Zhengting smiles, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a glug of wine. 

“We have ceramics together,” Wenjun informs him. His hands are surprisingly cool and smooth against yours. “It’s nice to meet you,” he reciprocates.

“I can’t believe you haven’t talked before. Y/N’s an excellent conversationalist,” Zhengting smirks. “Anyway, I’d better go check on my other guests. I’ll leave you to it,” he says, giving you a look.

“Mm,” you start before polishing off your drink. “So, your focus is ceramics?” you ask mundanely. 

“Yeah,” Wenjun responds. It’s so short and vague, but he’s trying to think of something to say while simultaneously undressing you with his eyes. It’s far from his first glass of wine. He notices that your glass is empty, but he has no intention of encouraging you toward another even though he’s literally standing in front of the bar. “You?”

“I’m actually art history, specializing in curation,” you reply. “I’m just taking pottery as an elective. I'm not very good at it,” you tell him and he chuckles because he’s noticed. 

“You seemed to be having a very heated discussion with Professor Wang the other day,” he notes. 

“Well, he doesn’t understand my art,” you laugh. “I’m not, um, as good with my hands as you are. Your work is basically perfect, making it hard for the rest of us.”

“Bowls and cups are nothing, boring really,” he says dismissively. 

You shrug. “Still, you make it look easy. I’d really like to see some of your other work,” you smile. You both know what you’re doing. 

“Oh, well, I have a lot of stuff at my apartment, if you’d like to come check it out,” he says, as if the invitation is open anytime. But you’re only interested in right now. 

“Is it close?” you ask boldly, your eyes glancing toward the door. 

Wenjun swallows and his tongue slips out over his bottom lip involuntarily. “Yeah, just a couple blocks,” he replies. He looks down at his wine glass. “I have better wine there, too,” he smiles. “Do you wanna come have a look?” 

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you agree. 

Wenjun tosses back what’s left at the bottom of his glass, showing off his long neck. “C’mon,” he invites you. 

You wave goodbye to Zhengting and follow him to his place. It’s really not that far at all from Zhengting's place, although it's not that close to campus. It's at the cusp of a wealthier neighborhood. Along the way you exchange some idle chit chat about the project you’ve just been assigned for class. He lets you into his one bedroom apartment. It’s neat and clean, but the flat surfaces hold many pieces of art. You’re drawn to a bookcase that’s pretty light on the books, but heavy on sculpture. 

“Do you like red?” he asks as he moves around the room to turn on several lamps that leave a moody, romantic ambiance. 

“Yeah, great,” you say disinterestedly. You know what you came for, but you’re actually very interested in the pieces you see. “Wow, this is really beautiful,” you say about a sculpture you’ve been looking at for a minute when he comes back from the kitchen. 

“Thank you,” he says, handing you a glass of merlot. 

“You did this?” you ask, looking over your shoulder and up at him, his head looming so far above yours. 

“Yeah. I had to choose between sculpture and ceramics,” he says, picking up the small stone statue you were admiring. He hands the figure resembling a female body to you and you set down your glass to take it, placing your hands over his in the exchange. After you’ve taken a firm grip on it he pulls his hand away very slowly. 

“Wow. I’m truly impressed,” you tell him, turning the object over in your hand and appreciating its weight. You place it back on the shelf. “So, why did you choose ceramics?”

“I guess, I like to get my hands dirty,” he says and there's a strange weight to his words. You almost choke. You can’t help but think about those hands. You’ve spent so long thinking about those hands. 

“Yeah, I get that,” you say quietly, turning your body toward him. He looks down on you intensely. “I like a man who’s good with his hands.”

Wenjun smiles. “So I’ve heard.” He must have heard from Zhengting, because he knows you have a thing about hands.

“Can I see them?” you ask, taking him by surprise.

“See what?”

“Your hands.”

“Oh.” He sets down his wine glass on the shelf behind you, coming half a step closer and leaning over you in the process. You can smell his cologne, sandalwood. He holds up his hands in front of you. You bring your own hands up and measure them against yours. You’re absolutely dwarfed, but you already knew that. You feel the heat of his hands as your palms press together. The tips of your fingers barely reach his first knuckles, but his digits are so thing it’s hard to describe his hands as big. 

“Did you ever play piano?” you wonder, with hands like that. 

“Nope.”

“Guitar?” 

Wenjun shakes his head. 

“What a shame,” you frown. 

“I can still put them to good use,” he grins as he interlocks your fingers with his unexpectedly.

“Oh, really?” you look up and lock eyes with him for a moment you can’t measure the length of.

Wenjun releases your hands only to run his fingers through his hair. He picks up his wine glass and turns to go sit on the couch, one arm extended over the back, looking very casual. “I’ve seen you staring at my hands in class,” he says before taking a slow sip of wine during which he does not take his eyes off you. 

You turn toward him, but don’t come closer. “What makes you think I’m looking at your hands and not your work?”

He shrugs. “Just a feeling.” You’re not sure if it’s the velvet couch or his clothes or the way he looks like he’s used to getting what he wants, but he gives off the air of family money. “So,” he continues. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking about when you stare at my hands.”

You swallow nervously and he notices. 

“It’s okay, Y/n. We all have kinks,” he smirks. 

You walk over to him slowly and stand in front of him, your hips right in front of his eyes. You hold out your hand, palm up, and he places his hand in yours. You bend down and turn it over to examine his palm, stroking it flat with your fingers. You course along the lines, feeling the mounds and ridges. 

“What do you see?” he asks quietly. 

You look at him through your eyelashes. “I can’t read palms,” you smirk. “I just think you have nice hands, and I want to see your fingers disappear inside of me.”

Wenjun huffs a laugh. A smile spreads gradually across his beautiful face, carving dimples into his cheeks. It would be cute if he didn’t have such a dangerous look in his eye. He leans forward to set his glass on the coffee table behind you and uses the opportunity to check out your ass. He pulls his hand gently from yours and runs both up the back of your thighs, under your black miniskirt to feel your ass. He rubs and squeezes your cheeks gently, like clay, feeling the satin he doesn’t yet know is red. He turns you around so your backside is facing him now. Your mind feels fuzzy and oh so warm as his hands continue to caress your flesh, winding around and between your thighs, over your cheeks. You can’t see each other’s faces, but you both have your eyes closed, breathing deeply through your noses. His head rests against your hip. He’s not using his eyes to check you out, yet, just his hands. His fingers slip between the apexes of your legs, feeling the smooth satin covering your yearning slit. 

“Is this where you want to feel me?” he wonders in a low tone. 

“Yes,” you gasp quietly, barely a whisper. 

“Are you sure?” he asks as he rubs gently over the spot. 

You mouth ‘yes’ but no sound escapes your lips. You clear your throat. “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he grins. “You tell me if you want me to stop.”

Wenjun’s into consent, and that’s definitely a turn on. It’s also a turn on that he’s now unzipping your skirt at the back and pulling it slowly down over your ass. 

“I take it back. You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?” he chuckles when he sees your red satin underwear.

“Yes, daddy,” you respond, because you just know. 

He turns you around again so you can face him. He looks up at you with big eyes, even darker than normal. You run your fingers through Wenjun's hair while he runs a finger under the edge of your panties around your left hip, dipping in between your legs, teasing the outer margins of your heat. He uses the finger to draw the crotch of your underwear to the side. He leans forward to blow cool air over your sensitive bits, not quite ready to give you what you want. You rub your thighs together at the sensation and the anticipation. You can feel yourself begin to drip. He covers you over again and returns to gently rubbing your satin and your legs.

“How long have you been waiting?” he asks quietly, looking up at you again as your head hangs forward in disappointment. 

“Since the first day of class,” you admit. 

“That’s not that long. Only about a month. I could make you wait longer,” he smirks devilishly. 

Your pussy clenches in frustration at his words. “No, daddy, please,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together again. 

“God, you’re cute when you beg,” he says in that entitled tone. His hands work their way around to your ass again. 

You lower yourself while angling his face up in your hands. You kiss him tenderly for the first time. “Please, daddy. I wanna feel you,” you beg in his ear. He hopes you don’t notice the jagged breath escaping his lips, but you do and you smile to yourself. You return to a pout before you stand up straight again. 

“Fuck, little girl. I guess since you asked so nice,” he agrees. 

Wenjun slides his fingers under the bright red fabric again and gently caresses your warm skin with the pads of his middle and ring finger. He feels for your entrance and finds it dripping with your essence. 

He sighs. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you princess?” 

“Mhm,” you give him a high moan as he dips one finger to your wetness and draws it toward himself, spreading up to your clit. He feels his cock twitch in his designer jeans and brings the finger out to his lips. 

“Mm, you’re a sweet girl,” he smiles. You lick your lips as you watch him. You reach for his hand and bring it to your mouth, sucking his fingers into you and tasting what’s left of yourself there. 

And he laughs, even as his dick is hardening uncomfortably against his pants. 

“What?” you can’t help asking, a little whiny. 

“Your duality is just...I don’t know whether to reward you or punish you,” he smiles. 

“Whatever you want, daddy. As long as you’re touching me.”

“Very well,” he agrees. 

Wenjun turns you once more so he can watch the satin slip over your perfect cheeks as he peels them off of you. Once they’re forgotten on the floor, he pulls you to sit on his leg, drawing your arm around his neck. His arm supports your back, his hand on your hip, while his other hand brings your face to his. His arms are so long it’s no struggle for his hand to drift from your hip, under your tight fitting top, to your breast, and massage it firmly while he kisses you. His breath is hot on your lips in the moments he pants over you. He smells like wine but it’s not the only thing about him that’s intoxicating. He slides his hand down and up one thigh before firmly gripping the other and lifting your leg to rest your foot on the coffee table. His fingers ghost back up your thigh to your core. He touches your softly with flat fingers, just to feel your warmth. He breaks your kiss to look down at your sex and then back up at your face. He presses his forehead to yours as he spreads your juices up to rub your clit. 

“You have a beautiful pussy, princess,” he whispers. Your eyes close at the hot electricity spreading from your clit to all the other nerves in your body. “You said you wanted to see, so look,” he instructs you as his fingers tease your entrance. 

You open your eyes and curve your back to see his middle finger slowly push inside of you. You clench around him and your mouth opens to gasp for air. But he doesn’t give you his whole finger, just half before he slips back out, dragging against your sweet spot. He inserts his ring finger into you as well, causing you to start breathing heavy as he feels your tight, wet walls, giving you the full length of those talented fingers. You whimper as he curves them inside of you and pulls back slowly. Your head is still resting against his and you close your eyes slowly, tightening your grip around his shoulders as indescribable pleasure ripples through your body. 

“Watch,” he whispers in your ear and begins to move his hand faster, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. Your hips move involuntarily. “Stop fucking my fingers, little girl. I’m the one fucking you,” he hisses as you drip onto his hand. 

You whimper and try hard not to move.

“Is this what you wanted?” he breathes in your ear, listening to you whine as he speeds up. 

“Yes, daddy,” you say in a high pitch, broken and pathetic.

“Can you come on my fingers, princess?” he asks, pressing more and more into your sweet spot. 

“Fuck,” you moan, and let your tension snap in your belly, gushing onto his fingers. 

“Good girl,” he says, kissing your sweaty cheek. 

You turn your face to press your lips against his. You’re still shaking with aftershocks from your eruption, but you can’t stop your hands from going to the button on his jeans. 

“You want daddy’s cock?” he asks, amused by your useless fumbling. 

“Yes, please,” you smile. 

“Okay, baby.” He pushes you off of him quickly but gently, not wanting to waste time on disrobing and getting straight to the point. He begins by taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt while you undo his pants.

“Well, that’s the second pair of pants I’ve ruined this week,” you mutter when you see the stain you left on his jeans and shove them to the floor. 

“What?” he laughs. 

“Uh. Ask Zhengting,” you say, and he doesn’t seem at all bothered by that, so you figure either he already knows or he doesn’t care about things you've done with Zhengting, or anyone else for that matter. He kicks them off and pulls his undershirt over his head while you stroke his cock. He lays himself down on the couch. 

“I want that wonderful pussy in my face, baby,” he tells you with a tap on your hip. 

You smile and swing your knee over his face, getting in the right position before you bend over his cock. You were right about Bi Wenjun. He’s long everywhere. Long and thick and delicious. In fact, it’s a little difficult to work with since you’re trying to hold yourself up and you can’t fit him all in your mouth, but you do your best. You lick his length and let your spit slide down so you can pump whatever you can’t get your lips over with your other hand while you suck him. He moans as you hollow your cheeks. He grunts when he hits the back of your throat and you choke on him bringing tears down your face. 

Wenjun’s not trying to come in your mouth though. He’s busy preparing your sweet hole for him and enjoying your juices. He sucks gently on your clit while teasing your entrance with a hand wrapped around your ass. He probes two fingers into you, applying pressure and stretching you a little before giving you a third finger. The way you moan from your own pleasure does wild things to his cock as he slides in and out of your mouth. 

When he decides he’s ready to fuck you he gives your a light smack on your ass, just to tell you to come up for air. He’s already decided he thinks you’re good, and he doesn’t want to punish you. You pull off of him and he pushes you off gently again. You stand before him, waiting for instructions. He reaches over to a box on an end table and pulls out a condom. 

“Take off your shirt,” he commands while he unwraps it. He slides the condom over his length and waves you to come sit in his lap, so you straddle him. He laughs when he sees how good you are at following instructions and easily removes your bra for you, tossing it to the other side of the room. 

“You ready, little girl?” he checks. 

You nod and grip his cock so you can position yourself correctly, breathing deep as you begin to slide onto him.

He takes your face in one hand and wipes the tears from your cheek while the other rests on your hip. “Take your time, baby. Don’t hurt yourself,” he says soothingly. 

"You're so fucking big," you moan and smile a little, thinking he didn’t have to buy ribbed condoms. You focus on breathing steadily while you ease onto him. 

He draws your eyes to his. “You know, I sit across from you every day in class, thinking of having you just like this,” Wenjun whispers as you take him all the way in.

“Fuck,” you sigh, feeling him fill you up. You rest on him for a second before you begin to move. He supports you, holding your waist firmly. 

“Such a good fucking girl,” he breaths, feeling pleasure wash over him with every movement of yours. “I knew you’d be so good at taking dick, little girl.”

“Daddy,” you whine, clutching his neck desperately. 

“Is it too big for you, baby?” he questions. 

You shake your head while you bite your lip, but you’re on the verge of tears. The sensation is too much. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

“No,” you moan shakily. 

“Are you going to come for me again?” he wonders. 

You nod your head. 

“You can come, baby.” He brushes your hair back to watch your face as you come undone all over him. “There you go, princess,” he smiles as you squeeze around him. 

He decides to give you a break and picks you up to lay your back on the couch while he kneels on the floor. 

“Is it okay if I move?” he asks. 

You nod. It’s amazing how considerate he is when he asks you things seeing as how he could literally destroy you with his cock. You hold back your legs while he thrusts in and out of you to his own rhythm. 

“There’s a good girl,” he coos as he glides along your walls. Wenjun's hands stretch out to massage your breasts as you take him deep, a little easier when you’re not under the pressure of your own gravity. He reaches up to wipe away the remaining tears his cock has caused you, and you take his hand in yours, guiding his long fingers into your mouth. You can still taste yourself on him but you don’t mind, especially when you see how you’re turning him on even more. Your grunts turn to moans and he begins to move faster. His head falls back as he grips your hips and fucks you hard. His eyes close and his features scrunch up on his face as he comes into you, sighing. 

Wenjun sits back on his heels, drained and weak, but he pulls your hand to bring you into a sitting position. He twines his fingers with yours. You use your other hand to tilt his face up to yours and kiss him tenderly while he recovers. After a minute he’s able to stand and go to the bathroom to clean up. When he comes back you’re in your underwear, trying to figure out where your bra got to. He laughs and goes to lift it off one of his statues with one finger before holding it out to you. 

“Thanks,” you blush, even though you weren’t the one who tossed it. 

He rubs his hand through his hair, sending it in all directions. “Do you live close?” he asks.

“Not really,” you admit. It’s not far, but you’d definitely have to uber at this time of night. 

“You can stay. If you want,” he tells you in a detached tone. “I don’t cuddle, and I’m not catching feelings, but I’m not the kind of asshole to throw a girl out on the street, and I’m gonna be up for a while longer if you wanna hang out.”

You only consider for a second before you agree. “I can tell you’re not an asshole, Wenjun.”

“You can?” he asks, apparently finding that amusing. 

“Yeah. I mean, I can see that you kind of want people to see you as aloof or whatever, but you’re not bad. Pretty good, actually,” you smile. It’s always easiest to tell if someone’s an asshole when they’re inside of you.

“You’re just saying that because I got you off twice.” But he’s got a huge smile across his face, and you’re not sure why. 

“It’s not like that makes you special,” you laugh, your whole chest shaking. 

He laughs too and shakes his head. He waves one of his long hands for you to follow him to his bedroom. He offers you a sweater and a pair of basketball shorts, saying any of his pants would be too long on you, and that’s obviously true. 

“You smoke?” Wenjun asks, as his head pops out of his shirt. 

“Uh, smoke what?” you ask, although you’ll probably answer yes since he doesn’t look like he does crack or meth. 

“Good question.” He grabs a pack of cigarettes off his dresser. 

“Hm. Not habitually, but I never turn down a post-coital cigarette,” you smile. You like the cliche. Wenjun likes the things you say when your head’s not clouded with sex. 

You grab your glasses of wine you’d abandoned and go to sit out on his balcony in the balmy September night. You stay up for hours talking about everything from art to music to childhood memories and finish a bottle of wine. He was serious about not cuddling, but he lets you sleep in his bed anyway. 

Preview:

  
[](https://ibb.co/L1S9mRz)  



	6. Chengcheng: "You fucking love to hate me"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Chenghcheng x female reader  
> Genre: smut
> 
> Warnings: Lots of cursing, rough sex, hate sex, a little violence, vaginal penetration, alcohol/intoxication, short and not at all sweet
> 
> A/n: Love Chengcheng, but there's always gotta be a bad guy lol.

There’s a loud banging on your door and you know you should ignore it because you already know what it is. You try, but the banging just gets louder and if you don’t deal with it your neighbors will get involved. 

You were enjoying a perfectly pleasant night at home alone. Lame for a Saturday night, but you figure you’ve had enough fun this week, and it’s better to just stay in and have some you time. You’ve had a few glasses of wine with the brownies you made to binge watch a Chinese drama. You’ve just crossed the line into drunkenness. 

“Y/N! Open the door, goddamn it!” Chengcheng yells, banging on the door again. 

You consider that you could call the police, but that sounds like more trouble and drama than Chengcheng’s stupid ass is worth. Annoyed, you pull yourself off the couch and answer the door.

“What the fuck do you want, Chengcheng?” you ask angrily as you open the door, he falls a little into the sudden emptiness. 

Your neighbor, Xinchun opens his door at the same time to see what the commotion is and if you need any help. Before either of you can say anything Chengcheng pushes past you, barging into your apartment. 

“Sorry,” you mumble to Xinchun, who raises his eyebrows. He wants to ask if you need any help, but you close the door to deal with your problem in private before he can get the words out. You turn toward your problem. 

“What the fuck, Chengcheng? You can’t just show up here, drunk off your ass, banging on my door. I already told you to leave me alone.”

Chengcheng's looking around your apartment for some reason. To check if there’s anyone else there. “Is that asshole Wenjun here?” he asks loudly. 

“What are you talking about?” you ask, just as loudly. 

“I saw you leave with that fucker last night, Y/n. Did you fuck him?” he demands to know. 

“Wow. None of your business,” you say with your arms crossed. 

Chengcheng faces you straight on, standing a yard or so in front of you. “I was there last night, Y/n,” he says, like that’s supposed to mean something to you. 

“I know. I just didn’t give a shit,” you laugh. His ego couldn’t be any bigger. 

Chengcheng steps toward you and doesn’t stop until he’s pushed you against the door. He stares into you and brings his face too close to yours to talk down to you. You can smell the alcohol on his breath and try to turn your face away. 

“You think you can make me jealous by fucking him? Hm?” He places his hand at the base of your throat. “You want to get my attention by whoring around? You think I don’t know?”

“What the fuck is your problem!” you yell in his face, using your arm to break his grip on you, which isn’t very tight given how drunk he is. He stumbles back. “First of all, Chengcheng, I learned ‘whoring around’ from you, but go off I guess. Secondly, we haven’t been together in over a year, and I don’t give a shit about if you’re jealous or not. Actually, I take that back. I don’t want you to be jealous. I just want you to leave me alone!”

“That’s not true and you know it, Y/n.” He’s lowered his voice. He comes toward you again, shaking his head. “You still love me.” He brings his hands to your shoulders like he wants to kiss you, so you push him away again. 

“I hate you!”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/n. Don’t lie to yourself. No one knows you like I do. No one can please you like I do. That’s why you’ve been trying to get any dick you can since I dumped you. Trying to fill the space I left in you?” He wavers where he stands, and he looks just pathetic.

“I’m the one lying to myself? Chengcheng, I dumped you. And you’re far from the best I’ve had,” you scoff. “Where did you get that giant fucking ego of yours? This is why no one wants to be friends with you anymore. Not even Zeren.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about Zeren.” Chengcheng’s eyes turn fierce through their drunken glassiness. His voice becomes even harsher. “You think I don’t know you’re fucking him, too, you fucking slut?”

“Don’t call me a slut! Not when you’re one to talk. Why are you even here? Trying to cheat on your girlfriend?”

“Can’t cheat on a girlfriend when you don’t have one,” he says, holding his arms out to demonstrate his lack.

“Did she dump your pathetic ass, too? Can’t imagine why.” You shift your weight to one hip and cross your arms.

Chengcheng comes toward you again, taking you by the back of the head and your posture puts you just enough off balance that you come under his control. “She didn’t dump me, Y/n. I dumped her. I want you,” he breathes over you. 

“Shut up, Chengcheng,” you say, trying to push him off of you, but he brings his other arm around your waist and holds you tight. He turns your head a bit and kisses your neck before sucking on it. You hate how the way he manhandles you makes you wet, how the danger turns you on.

“I miss you, babe,” he says as he moves to another spot. 

“Fuck, Chengcheng,” you groan. “You don’t miss me. You’re just a horny bastard.”

“I do!” he insists, kissing just behind your ear. “No one knows how to please me like you do, babe. I miss your touch so much,” he moans into you. 

“Seriously. Shut the fuck up,” you mutter, as if that would stop the sudden aching in your hips. 

You know that you hate him. And he knows it, too. He knows exactly what he’s doing right now. Somehow he figured out how to turn your anger into lust with his insistence and his whispers. It’s fucking infuriating, but you can’t stop yourself as you pull his mouth to yours to make him stop talking. He probably does actually miss your sex, because you are fucking phenomenal. 

Chengcheng moves his hands down to grab your ass while he kisses the other side of your neck. You rub your hands over his muscular back. He still works out. His body was always the best thing about him, since it obviously wasn’t his personality. And you weren’t lying when you said he wasn’t the best sex. It never was, since he only ever cared about his own pleasure. The problem was once he got your going you couldn’t stop. He was an adrenaline rush, and once he got your blood pumping you had to see it through. He lets go of your ass to unbutton his pants and pull out his half hard cock. 

“You have protection?” you ask. 

Chengcheng groans and reaches in his pocket to pull out a condom. You don’t help him at all as he tries to get hard and slip it onto himself, but he gets it done. He spins you around and bends you over your kitchen table, landing on your elbows. He pulls down your sweat pants and fumbles his dick around your entrance. 

“Hurry the fuck up, Chengcheng,” you urge him. Even though you’re agreeing to this, you’ll be happier when he’s gone, and you don’t want hate fucking him to take up all that’s left of your night. 

“Shut the fuck up, you filthy whore,” he says as he thrusts all the way into you in one go, making you groan loudly. 

You grip the edge of the table as he slams into you. He grabs your hips and fucks you hard, making your eyes roll back in your head until you squeeze them shut. 

“God, I fucking hate you,” you moan even as pleasure rips through you, just to remind you both where you stand. 

“I know babe. You fucking love to hate me,” he smirks as he buries himself inside of you, rubbing against your soft walls. He’s not focusing on your pleasure whatsoever, but he’s loving your tight pussy rubbing along his length, shooting fireworks behind his closed lids until he’s dizzy from the sex and the alcohol. He starts to go soft. 

“Don’t you fucking dare, Chengcheng,” you mutter. What you’re not going to do is suck this bastard off or listen to him whine when he can’t come, so you try to make him mad to get it back. His hand comes down hard against you ass, making you yelp. That helps, so he does it again and a third time, fucking into you harder, enjoying the shade of red splashed across your ass. It brings back a memory. 

“God, I miss painting you, babe,” he moans as he thrusts in and out of you. “Miss your body. Miss making art out of you,” he sighs. 

You roll your eyes, trying to focus on the sensations of his cock rubbing over your sweet spot and not his voice talking nonsense.

“Now, I just see you everywhere. In everyone else’s work,” he complains. His hips stutter and he groans, coming lazily into the condom. He sighs like it’s a relief. He doesn’t waste too much time pulling out of you and disposing of the condom in your kitchen trash can. You pull up your sweat pants and run your hands through your hair. 

“I really do miss you, Y/n,” he says, capturing your chin and trying to kiss your lips again, but you pull away from him, unimpressed by his words and disgusted by his breath. 

“You really don’t,” you assure him. “You’re just horny and drunk. And since you got what you came for, you can leave now,” you tell him. 

Chengcheng laughs and shakes his head. “You really are something else, Y/n.” You open the door for him. “Whatever,” he mutters and leaves. 

You slam and lock the door behind him, silently apologizing to your neighbors. You go take a hot shower to wash the feeling of him off of you and get yourself off before you get back to your show and fall asleep curled up on the couch.


	7. Xinchun: “It’ll go away in a minute if you stop doing that”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Xinchun x female reader  
> Genre: fluff, smut
> 
> Warnings: oral sex (male receiving), umm...that's kind of it tbh
> 
> Summary: You and Xinchun have only ever been just friends, but he's an especially nice friend and you decided to thank him.
> 
> A/n: So, Xinchun's purity definitely comes from him just being a nice guy. He's one of the older guys, so I didn't have a problem writing about him because of his age but just because he doesn't seem like a casual sex guy. Nonetheless I wasn't just going to leave him out!

There was nothing _wrong_ with the graphic design cohort, but they were the nerds of the art department, basically computer geeks with a creative streak and a need for perfection, which could be a bit aggravating. And they tended not to have the desires toward the human form that you found in other art students, so to you they were just generally irrelevant to your social life. With the exception of one Huang Xinchun. 

You wake up on Sunday morning with stabs of pain in your stomach. You know what that means, and you’re grateful because at least you aren’t pregnant. After you get up to go to the bathroom you go back to the couch and lay there groaning to yourself, unwilling to face the day. Curled into a tight ball, entwined in a blanket, you scroll through your social media until you hear a gentle knocking on your door. You moan a soft cry to yourself before you stumble off the couch and over to the door. 

“Hey, Chun,” you mumble to your neighbor and friend when you open the door without looking through the peephole. 

“Hey, Y/n. Do you wanna go get pancakes and then go to the library?” he asks, chipper on a Sunday morning. It’s not an uncommon offer from him on a Sunday morning.

“Can’t today. I’m busy dying,” you groan. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his smile suddenly vanishing and giving way to a worried expression. “Did Chengcheng hurt you last night?”

You shake your head. “No. No, nothing like that. My uterus is just trying to tear me apart.” You lean on the door and clutch your side

“Oh,” he laughs. You don’t try to make any attempt at an apology, even though you know most guys are really uncomfortable with the entire concept of menstruation. But you figure you let enough guys inside you that they can fucking deal with it. Not that Xinchun has ever been inside of you. 

“Do you need me to get you anything? I can go to the store,” he offers. 

You turn your head up at him to give him a dumbfounded open-mouth stare. “You would do that for me?” you ask, almost tearing up when you think of the two tampons in your bathroom and how badly you don’t want to leave your apartment. 

“Sure. It’s no problem,” he smiles. 

“Why?”

“I have two older sisters, and a mom. This kind of stuff doesn’t bother me,” he assures you. “What do you need?”

“Um,” you think for a second, still surprised by his offer and the eagerness in which he’s making it. “Let me get my wallet and make a list.”

Xinchun passes through the door you leave open as you wander to your room. You grab your wallet and a notepad, scribbling down cookies, ice cream, tampons and what size, blushing in spite of yourself, as you walk back to him. You stop in front of him, tapping your chin with the pen. 

“Hey, do you wanna get pizza and spend the day watching movies with me?” you ask, suddenly making a surprise offer of your own. Your day is already shot and you don’t want to spend it alone.

His face brightens with a smile. “Yeah, that sounds a lot better than studying,” he admits.

“Cool!” You’re actually very excited. Xinchun is one of your favorite people to chill with because he’s so easy going and he’s a cuddle buddy. You pull some cash out of your wallet and hand it to him. “Get yourself some snacks, too, for being such a good sport,” you tell him with a wink. 

Xinchun chuckles and takes your money and your list, telling you he’ll be back shortly. While he’s gone you try to tidy up your apartment from the mess you left the night before and bring out more pillows and blankets for your movie day. When he comes back you let him pick a movie, and he picks a cheesy romcom because he genuinely wants to watch it. You eat pizza and make fun of the characters while he tries to defend their romance to you. By half-way through the movie you’re cuddling together and you fall asleep before the end, lulled into a nap by his warmth. He falls asleep too, soothed by the soft sound of your steady breathing. 

A little over an hour later you wake up on Xinchun's chest as he begins to stir. He’s nervous, realizing he’s got a hard on in his sleep, and it’s pushed against your leg. You don’t notice at first though. But when you pull the blanket off him as you sit up to stretch, it’s pretty hard not to see him pushing against his sweatpants. A grin spreads like butter across your face and you turn your eyes on him.

“Xinchun, are you hiding sausage in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” you tease. 

He covers his eyes with his hand and something between a laugh and a groan spills from his lips. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be,” you assure him, still grinning. You can’t help yourself as you reach out your hand to gently rub the soft cotton covering his bulge. He’s bigger than you’d have thought. Not that you’ve put a lot of thought into Xinchun’s member. He’s obviously straight husband material. The kind of guy who only has sex in serious relationships, of which he’s had two. He sees you as only a friend, and it’s refreshing that he isn’t interested in you for the things other guys are. Still though, he’s got his hard dick right there in front of you, and he’s been _so nice_ today. You think he deserves a reward. 

“It’ll go away in a minute if you stop doing that,” he tells you nervously. 

You hum. “Or I could…” You run your hand up and down him a couple of times before gliding up to his waistband. 

He looks at you wide eyed for a moment before he says, “You don’t have to.”

“But, what if I wanted to?” you ask, but your hand has stopped moving. You won’t do anything if he doesn’t want you to.

He clears his throat. “You want to?” he wonders. 

“I’d love to, if that’s what you want,” you say in a sultry tone. 

Xinchun stares into your dark, lusty eyes. He couldn’t say that he _wanted_ it. But he also can’t say that now that you’re making the offer that he doesn’t want it either. He’s a bit confused for a moment, not ever having imagined himself in this situation, but he swallows and gives you a nod. You smile at his innocent response and begin to pull on the drawstring of his pants. 

“Are you sure?” you ask, already lowering your head.

His cock twitches before he can breathe his “yes.”

A small giggle leaves your throat as you tug his waistband down just enough to uncover his firm, thick cock. It’s straight as a rod, with veins thumping against his skin. He’s only gotten harder since you noticed him. You glide your thumb over the ridge underneath, all the way up to his head, and your small hand isn’t even able to wrap all the way around him. Your mouth waters as a bead of precum drips from his tip. You bring your mouth and his head together to give him soft licks. The tip of your tongue traces the veins running up from his base and he lets out a jagged breath. Xinchun's mouth hangs silently open as you take his head in your mouth and suck briefly before popping off. He adjusts himself on the couch so you’re both a little more comfortable and then lets his hands rest at his sides and watches himself disappear into your lips. 

You lay on your stomach and let your arms rest on top of his thighs, teasing his balls with your left hand while your right hand encircles and strokes him. His warm cock fills your mouth more and more and he lets out steady moans as you rub your tongue over his ridge while you suck him up and down. His eyes go wide at the sound of your gagging on him. You feel his muscles tense and know he’s getting close to his climax. 

“Uh, Y/n, I’m…” Xinchun stutters, trying to warn you, but you speed up and pump him faster until he paints your throat with thick warm cum. His eyes squeeze closed and he lets out a low grunt as he does so. 

You swallow and pull off of him, being sure to lick any remains off his pulsing cock before you sit up and wipe the corner of your mouth. “You good?” you smile as he breathes heavy. 

“Very good,” he sighs, making you giggle. He lays there for a moment longer before he lifts his hips off your couch to pull his pants back up. He sits up and clears his throat, but instead of saying anything he just stares into space for a minute. Finally he shoots a nervous glance at your face. “Am I a dick if I leave?” he asks anxiously. 

“No,” you chuckle. “I won’t take up any more of your time. I just thought you deserved it,” you shrug.

“Hm. Okay. Well...thanks?” He looks a bit confused, but he smiles a bit. He stands from the couch and wipes his sweaty palms on his pants.

“Thanks for being cool today,” you tell him. 

“Sure,” he says quietly. 

“Hey, Chun. It doesn’t have to be weird.” You try to smile reassuringly at him. 

Xinchun sighs in relief. “Okay. Good. I’ll see you later then,” he says and you nod as he shows himself out. 

You sit back down on your couch and grab a piece of pizza, munching while you look for another movie to watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes what I had originally planned for this series, one crazy week with the boys of NEXT. 
> 
> However, I am by no means going to stop here. I have some things planned for this little universe. And will probably dump some smutty stories here when I don't know where else to put them. 
> 
> I am taking REQUESTS. If there are any guys you would like to seen thrown into this skinematic universe from idol producer season 1 I'm down for that. Leave me a note in the comments (I think guests can leave comments to ;)) 
> 
> Stay thirsty my friends.


	8. Wenjun: A Hands-on Approach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Wenjun x reader  
> Genre: smut, a little bit of crack 
> 
> Summary: Since your first encounter a couple of weeks ago, Wenjun has been looking for a chance to get into your pants again. He seems to think in the studio while he's supposed to be helping you is the right time and place.
> 
> Warnings: Explicit language, fingering, Wenjun is a soft dom lol, semi public, "baby", "good girl" etc., vaginal sex, 
> 
> A/N: did I watch YouTube tutorials about throwing pottery to write this chapter? Yes, I did. Was it satisfying? Yes, it was. Sorry this is long(?). I don't know, just seems like he would enjoy taking his time playing with you.

Professor Wang asked you to stay after class so he could tell you that you needed to create something a person could actually eat or drink from if you wanted to pass your midterm. Wenjun smirked at you over the teacher’s shoulder as he leaned against the door jam, clutching the strap of his messenger bag. 

Since your encounter after Zhengting’s party where he destroyed your pussy and talked with you into the small hours, you two had actually become friends. He was interesting and easy to talk to, and he felt the same way about you. You’d usually chat with him after class, even go get tea or something if you both had the time. Still, he hadn’t stopped distracting you in class. Even after discovering just how lovely his hands were, you found it hard to focus, and now he was purposefully trying to distract you. He still always chose a pottery wheel directly in your line of sight after you’d gotten to class and picked your spot. He’d catch your eye and lick his lips before showing you he was undressing you with his eyes. There was no question he wanted to have you again, but he wasn’t saying it out loud. 

“You’re allowed to come in after classes and use the studio,” your professor reminds you. “You paid a materials fee, so you can come in at your convenience, just be responsible.”

“Sure,” you nod, and he turns away from you to signal that you are dismissed. You walk around him to the door. Wenjun is still waiting for you and you roll your eyes at his smug expression.

“I can help you, you know? All you have to do is ask,” he says quietly, but arrogantly. “We could meet up here tonight,” he suggests. 

“I’m sure you have better things to do with your evening,” you reply. You could actually really use his help and you’ve been thinking about asking him, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

“I do, but I don’t think this will get in the way of that,” he says, and there’s a tone to his words that makes you twist your neck to look up at him as he walks beside you but slightly behind you. You turn and stop, letting him almost run into you with just inches to spare. “Okay. Meet me tonight at 8?” you offer. 

“Mmm. Are you _asking_ for my help?” he grins. 

You grit your teeth and close your eyes to keep from rolling them. “Yes. I’m asking for your help,” you say, your jaw and your lips barely moving. 

“Hm. Funny. I didn’t actually hear you ask…”

You swallow. “Bi Wenjun, will you please help me with my ceramics project?” you ask flatly. 

He tongues the inside of his cheek and makes an expression like he’s considering it. “It doesn’t sound like you need my help that badly.” He shrugs. 

_Fuck._ You just remembered how much he likes it when you beg. You hang your head and sigh. Then you lift your gaze back up to him, your eyes softer now, batting your eyelashes, playing his game. You touch your hand to the one he still has clenched around the strap of his bag, while your other hand lays flat on his chest. 

“Wenjun, I really need your help with my project.” Your voice is as soft as your eyes and your hands. “You’re the best in class, and I really need to pass. Can you meet me tonight?”

He huffs and bites his lips as he looks straight down on you. “Yeah. Sure, I can help you, Y/n. Does 8 work for you?”

“Yep. See you later,” you say abruptly and walk away quickly, leaving him smiling to himself. 

Wenjun is already in the studio when you arrive just before eight. By the looks of it, he’s been there for a little while. He’s making a vase that’s getting frighteningly tall, with his thin arm reaching deep inside. 

“I’m almost finished,” he says quietly without looking up when he hears the door close. “Go ahead and start setting up.” He nods to the pottery wheel beside him. 

“Why are you even in this class?” you ask as you watch him put the finishing touches on the elegant vase. You’ve been meaning to ask but you always get distracted.

“It’s just a credits thing. I convinced a previous professor to let me into higher level classes without the prerequisite, but now my advisor says I need this class to graduate,” he explains without taking his eyes off his work.

“Oh. That sucks.” You get a couple of balls of clay and a sponge and some other tools before sitting next to him. 

Wenjun pulls his hands away from the clay and lets the wheel slowly come to a stop. He shrugs. “It’s not that bad. I mean, I was actually dreading it, but now I get to bother you a couple times a week, so it’s not that bad,” he smiles and you roll your eyes. “Can you start centering that clay or do you need help?” he asks condescendingly but only to tease you. 

“I got it,” you grumble and wet the wheel and your hands before thumping the clay down in the center. 

Wenjun removes his vase and takes it away while you begin to wet the clay and center it in your hands. You focus on the feel of it between your hands and getting the right slickness and you move the clay up and down. 

“Get close,” Wenjun tells you, suddenly coming down on the bench right behind you and pushing you forward without warning. “It’s easier if you get your arms in and brace them against your body,” he says right in your ear, tucking your arms in by placing his outside of them.

You’re so stunned by how quickly he snuck up on you, you start to forget what your body is doing and your foot on the peddle. 

“Keep it spinning,” he says quietly, his breath against the back of your ear, making you shiver.

You clear your throat and twist your body so you can look at him. “I thought you were just going to demonstrate.”

“You’ve been watching me for a month and a half, and you haven’t learned a thing. I thought it was time for a more hands on approach.” He leans over to get some water to drip on your clay and smiles charmingly at you while your eyes follow him incredulously. “Come on.”

You sigh and face forward again, wetting your hands and placing them back on the clay. He places his hands over yours and you hope he doesn’t notice the chill that it gives you, but he does. 

“The key to making the clay do what you want is firmness,” he says as he presses his hands down on yours to guide them. “But you have to be gentle,” he whispers. 

You knew this was a bad idea. You know he’s not going to let up on his suggestions and innuendos, so you buckle in for the ride. 

“Use two fingers like this,” he says, demonstrating, and you follow his lead. He leans over you into the water bucket. “Gotta make sure you’re wet enough,” he says, dripping water over your hands and clay again. He holds back a chuckle as you sigh. “Okay, now let’s work on your hole.”

“Wenjun! I just need a couple of bowls!” you cry, unable to take it.

“I know! And to make a bowl we need to make a hole!” he smiles.

“Can you be serious, please? We can get this done in like thirty minutes and then we can go to your place, if you want. But please, can we get this done?” you whine.

“I’m trying to help. You’re the one holding up this process. Don’t you stop that wheel to pout at me, princess,” he says when you twist to look at him again.  
You huff and press your foot to the peddle again and wet your hand. 

“Damn. You’re so bratty tonight. Definitely going to have to punish you,” he says, so close his lips brush your ear.

“Wenjun!” you yell.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll shut up,” he mumbles. He does for the most part, but he still gives you some instructions in that soft tone he has. He can’t entirely help the double entendres that spill from his lips. He didn’t make pottery sexy. He’s just capitalizing on it. And he’s still got his body wrapped around you and his hands over yours as he guides you through the process. 

“Good,” he smiles at you when you have a very ordinary looking bowl. If you can make another one just like it, it will be enough to pass your midterm. “Now try it on your own,” he says as he stands, suddenly taking away his warmth and support, leaving you feeling a bit like a slug without a shell while he carries it away to sit for a few minutes. 

You get started on your next bowl and try not to rush, but you also want to get as far with it as possible before he comes back and does god knows what to drive you crazy. You hear him washing his hands and feel a sense of relief that he may actually leave you be. He comes back and stands beside you, watching over your work with his arms crossed non threateningly across his chest. He gives you subtle reminders and you’re done within a matter of minutes. 

“I want to do one more,” you tell him after you place your bowl beside the first one. “But I think I’ve got it now, so you don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to,” you tell him. 

Wenjun shrugs. “I’ll stay.” 

He goes and cleans up his station while you get started on your next piece of clay. You’re focused and concentrating on what you’re doing, so he’s able to sneak up on you once more. He sits behind you once again, but this time, instead of putting his hands on yours he sets them on your thighs. 

“Wenjun, I said I got this,” you tell him quietly. 

“You’re doing great,” he agrees as his hands rub into your inner thighs. 

“Wenjun,” you complain as you’re trying to pull up the wall of your bowl.

“Shh, you’re almost done. Don’t stop,” he whispers as his hands slip over your crotch. You can’t help the way your head falls back at his touch. “Careful. You’re going to lose it and have to start all over if you don’t pay attention,” he says against your neck. You groan. “Focus,” he says before nibbling on your earlobe.

His hand comes up to your stomach and slips under your shirt to caress your skin before he slides under the elastic waistband of your yoga pants. 

“Wenjun, damn it,” you hiss as his cool fingers reach down to your clit and tease you. 

He hushes you. “You’re so close.” 

And you really are so you focus as best you can for the next minute to finish the bowl and keep it from going lopsided while he rubs circles of your poor needy clit. You decide it’s good enough and let the wheel slowly come to a stop. 

“Y/n,” he says, like he’s about to tell you what you’re going wrong. 

“It’s a bowl. Shut up and don’t stop,” you gasp. 

Wenjun chuckles against the nape of your neck and uses his other hand to grab underneath your thigh to slide his legs under yours and lean your back against his chest. He moves his mouth to the other side of your neck and sucks at the tender part of your shoulder. Now his fingers have more access to you and he’s able to hook them and slip them inside your slick hole so he can reach your favorite spot. 

“You bastard, you’ve been planning this, haven’t you?” you mutter when you want to moan. 

“Fuck yeah. I’ve been sitting here distracting you until you fail so I’d have a chance to get you here,” he says in a tone that makes unsure whether or not he’s kidding. It’s entirely possible he’s played this fantasy out in his head before.

“Fuck,” you whine as he touches you just right. “At least you let me finish first.” Your eyes glance down to your perfectly adequate bowl. 

“Oh, baby, you’re nowhere near finished yet,” he growls in your ear, ironically carrying you toward your climax. 

You’d love to continue this banter with him, but you can’t form words anymore. He’s rubbing with just the right firmness over your bundle of nerves and all you can do is whine. Without realizing it, you’re holding back for him, but he can tell by the way your hips have stopped jerking as you try to hold yourself rigid.

“Come for me, baby girl,” he whispers with his lips against your ear again, and you let go. 

He slides his finger into you once more to feel the way you clench around him. When your pulsing slows he pulls his hand out of your pants and licks his fingers as he stands slowly, sliding you off of his thighs in the process. You turn your head to look up at him when your butt hits the bench, giving him a dopey grin. Your fingers reach for the button of his jeans. 

“Nuh uh,” he says, swatting your hands away. “We’re not done yet. We have to glaze these pieces and get them into the kiln.”

“But-” your words are stopped by his hand grabbing you by the jaw. He bends down to bring his face to yours. 

“If you’re a very good girl, I’ll take you home and fuck you properly, but for now there’s still work to be done,” he tells you in a low voice before letting you go and walking away. 

It’s really annoying the way he got you revved up like that only to leave you cold, but he’s right. There’s a thick layer of dried clay on your hands that you’ve entirely forgotten about. You clear your throat and stand to carry your last bowl over to the others. He prepares the glaze while you wash your hands thoroughly and then he helps you apply it. He’s very thorough and responsible in all the steps, his mind not at all clouded by getting you off. You get the pieces in the kiln and start it up. He makes sure you leave the room in tip top shape before he slings his bag over his shoulder and says, “lets go.”

“Hey, you two,” you hear behind you as you walk quickly down the hallway. Wenjun doesn’t seem to be in a rush, but you have to do double time to keep up with his long ass legs. You both come to a screeching halt and turn slowly to look at Professor Wang.

“Hi, professor,” you say quietly. 

“Did you get some work done?” he asks with a smile, to which you simply nod. “With Wenjun’s help?”

“Um, yeah. I hope that’s okay,” you try to say in a normal voice. 

“Sure. Wenjun’s an expert. I’ll look forward to your pieces,” he smiles broadly. “I trust you cleaned up the studio.”

“Yes, sir,” Wenjun says with a curt nod. 

“Alright then, you two get out of here. See you next week,” he tells you.

You tug on Wenjun’s arm, unable to leave fast enough now. He leads you to the garage where his car is parked. Of course it’s foreign, sleek and impeccably clean. You giggle to yourself in the front seat as he pulls onto the main road to drive you to his apartment.

“What?” he wonders, glancing at you for a fraction of a second, your face illuminated by yellow street lights as you pass by. 

“'Yes, sir',” you giggle again. It was funny to see him be so formal and respectful to the teacher when he was so filthy sometimes with you. 

Wenjun puts his hand on your thigh and squeezes. “Hey, do you want me to take you home?” he says in a harsh tone, like it’s your punishment. You remember that he’ll only take you to his place if you’re _a very good girl_. You bite your lips together and shake your head. “Are you being disrespectful?” 

“No, sir,” you say, and fight a smile. 

“Good girl,” he replies, kneading his fingers deeper into your thigh as he drives. 

It’s a short trip to his apartment by car. You rub your legs together, trying to contain your impatience as he gathers his things from his car and then leads you to his apartment. It takes all your self control not to rip your clothes off the moment you’re inside. You take off your shoes by the door like he does and set your bag gently on a chair in the living room, keeping your movements deliberately slow to maintain a sense of calm. Wenjun walks to his bedroom and disappears, leaving you waiting for instructions. 

“Are you coming?” he asks, poking his head around the door frame. It takes all you have not to run into his room. 

"Thank you for helping me today," you say as you walk into his room where he's hanging up his jacket in his closet. "I appreciate your time."

He closes the door and turns back to you, reaching a hand out to stroke under your jaw to make you look up at him (as if you're not always looking up at him). "Don't worry. You're going to make it up to me."

"How?" You ask with a smile.

Wenjun hums while he ponders. He weaves his long fingers into the hair at the back of your head and leans down to meet you in a kiss. He stops the kiss to turn you around. He pushes you toward the bed but keeps you from getting on it. His fingers find the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head slowly as you raise your arms. They brush your skin as he moves your hair to one side so he can attach his mouth to your shoulder while he unclasps your bra. It falls to the floor with a light sound, accenting the the soft moans he brings out with his hands gently massaging your breasts while he sucks on the soft flesh of your shoulder, making a mark. You reach your hands over your head to run your fingers through his hair, desperate to have a hold on him. One hand remains on your chest to pull you close against him while his other hand travels down your stomach and under your waistband once again to feel your heat. 

“Mm, still wet for me. Good girl,” he praises. He brings his hand up and lets you suck on his fingers. Just as you begin to lose yourself in it, he takes his fingers from your lips and pushes you more forcefully than normal onto his bed so you land on your hands. When he smacks your ass you lift your knees up to the bed so you’re on all fours. You shake your ass for him a little and hear the zipper on his jeans. 

“Fuck yes, baby. I love the way those pants stretch over your ass,” he husks, and you look back to see him stroking himself while he works to pull his jeans off his feet. “I almost hate to see them go,” he murmurs as he hooks the fingers of his other hand under the elastic. 

He pulls it down very slowly, revealing you bit by bit until he can see your dripping entrance and you hear him moan very quietly. You help him get them off your knees, but after that he gives a harsh tug that throws you off your balance and has you laughing as you fall over onto the bed. He doesn’t give you time to recover before his hands grip your hips and pull you to the edge of the bed. The fingers of one hand are digging into your ass cheek, keeping your hips up and your pussy spread for him. He bends at the waist to dip his tongue into your delicious juices, making a sound to tell you how much he enjoys the flavor. His other hand continues to stroke his long member. He teases your yearning pussy by licking a few long stripes from your clit to your hole, making you jerk at the sensitivity. Soon though he needs more. Wenjun leans over and extends his long thin arm to open the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a condom. 

“Are those the ribbed ones?” you ask hesitantly. 

“Yep. That’s all I’ve got,” he tells you as he opens the package. 

“Fuck, Wenjun,” you whine. “That’s really not necessary.”

“You know you love getting destroyed by my cock,” he smiles as he slips the condom over his length. 

“Fuck. Yeah. That’s kind of my point,” you moan in the anticipation. 

He hushes you and gives you another light smack on the ass, causing you to lift your hips up a little. “Just be a good girl and take what I give you,” he says quietly as he lines himself up at your soaked slit. 

He gives it to you slowly at first, but you’re so wet for him he can’t help but slip in.

“That’s half,” he tells you as you let out a whimper. 

You can’t tell if he’s trying to brag or inform you. You mutter a barely audible “fuck.” 

“You want more, princess?” he asks, and you know he’s smiling. 

“Yes,” you groan pathetically. 

He pulls out just a little and pushes deeper into you. “That’s three quarters.” You let out a whine and try to rut onto him. “You think you can take all of me, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, please,” you plead.

“Okay, baby,” he grins and pulls back to plunge all the way into your cavern. “You okay, baby?”

“Yes, daddy. Thank you,” you cry. 

“God, you take my cock so well,” Wenjun moans into you as he thrusts. 

The way he stretches your entrance and reaches up to your cervix does wild things to you, while the bumps of the ribbed condom rubbing against your walls makes you entirely unable to speak. Nothing but cries, no longer moan, escape your throat. You can’t even hold yourself up on your arms anymore and let your face fall to the soft comforter below you. He grabs your wrists and pulls you up toward him, your shoulder blades against his chest, and he wraps his arms around you. His lips are at your ear again. 

“I didn’t want to fuck you at school because I knew you’d scream,” he purrs in your ear. 

He’s not giving you full strokes anymore, but he’s giving you just the right about to hit your sweet spot every time and elicit the aforementioned screams. 

“Fuck, daddy!” you bleat, barely able to breath and he rubs against your walls. He turns your head to crush his lips against yours as you come all around him, adding to your wetness. 

He releases his hold on you and lets you fall limply to the bed. He pulls out of you and flips you over by your leg. He pulls your butt to the edge of the bed and teases your gaping hole with the head of his cock, pushing your juices up to your clit. 

“You want your cock again?” he asked as you moan quietly. 

“Yes, sir,” you smile. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he breathes just before pushing into you again. “You look so pretty wrapped around me, baby,” he husks as he thrusts slowly in and out of you. 

“You like fucking me, daddy?” you ask in a sweet voice, slightly more used to his size now. 

“Oh, baby, I love your sweet pussy,” he cooes. “It’s like magic.” 

He’s starting to unravel a bit himself, a little bit of his toughness chipping away as he becomes weak for you. He leans over you to rub his hand over your stomach. He gropes your breast and teases your nipple with his thumb. He lowers his head down to take your other nipple into his mouth, pressing your legs back in the process and reaching deeper inside of you. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about fucking you,” he confesses, a slight whine to his voice, as your fingers slip into his hair and hold him to your breast. 

He lifts up with a grunt and begins thrusting his hips faster. His thumb presses firm circles over your sensitive clit. He smiles at the sound of your moans and the jerking of your hips. He comes before you, but he doesn’t stop teasing you until your throbbing walls are milking every drop from him. He falls onto you and pushes you up the bed, cuddling you like a koala. 

“I thought you didn’t cuddle,” you say after a minute in which he’s wrapped around you and still inside of you. 

“Shh,” he hushes and buries his head into the crook of your neck. Finally, he pulls away slightly to look at you. “So, three times, does that make me special?” he asks. 

You fall away from him in an uproar of laughter. He slips out of you as you roll onto your back. He props himself up on his elbow, still waiting for an answer. You take in the cute way his hair has fallen over his forehead before giving him one. 

“Special-er,” you grin, “but still not unheard of.”

“Fine. We’ll just have to try for four next time,” he sighs tiredly and drags himself off to the bathroom to wash up. You begin gathering your clothes and putting them on. “You don’t have to go. You can stay here,” he tells you when he returns, tugging at the shirt in your hands, your last piece of clothing. 

You pull it away gently and slip in over your head. “No, I really shouldn’t,” you tell him. You go to the door to find your shoes while he sighs. 

“Hold on, I’ll drive you.”

He dresses quickly in sweats and you go out to his car. Again, it’s not a very long trip in his sleek automobile. He parks in front of your building when you tell him to stop. As you reach for the handle he reaches for your hand and grips it tight. 

“Are you busy this weekend?” he asks.

You sit back in your seat and look up at him slowly. “Wenjun, please don’t go catching feelings for me,” you beg, but in a way that’s not at all whiny. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

He smiles and looks at the steering while. “And I’m not that kind of guy. I just like having fun with you.”

“Me too. Let’s keep it that way.” He sighs and you lean into his ear. “It will be more fun the longer I make you wait.” You peck a kiss onto his cheek and open the door. “Goodnight,” you call over your shoulder before the door closes.


	9. Lin Yanjun: Brat Tamer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Lin Yanjun x female reader  
> Genre: smut
> 
> Summary: You end up in a battle of wills with fuck boy Lin Yanjun. Spoiler alert: you both win.
> 
> Warnings: explicit language, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), bratty reader, choking, rough sex, protected sex, degradation (s**t, w***e)
> 
> Word count: 1.4k

“Stop, looking at me like that Y/n,” Yanjun orders as he continues to sketch. 

“Look at you like what?” you wonder.

“Like you wanna fuck me,” he smirks.

“I don’t, Junie. That’s just how I look,” you smile back. 

“Is that how you get every guy on campus to fuck you?” he asks, a playful smile still on his lips, but he’s trying to concentrate. 

“Not every guy.” You roll your eyes. “And I don’t have to ‘get’ them to. They’re begging for it,” you boast. 

“Well, not me, so don’t even think about it. You’re just here as a model. Just a stand in. So don’t get any ideas.” He leans back to take a look at his work and compare it to you. 

“Fuck, Lin Yanjun, you really know how to make a girl feel special.” You let out a bored sigh as he makes adjustments. “Don’t worry. I’m not interested in campus fuck boys anyway.”

He chuckles. “Don’t like the competition?”

“Oh baby, we aren’t even in the same league.”

Yanjun sets his sketchbook down with a thud. “So, now you think you’re better than me?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. It’s an absolutely withering stare, yet you can feel the wetness pooling between your legs. You melt a little under that stare.

“No, Junie. I’m not saying that,” you breathe.

He stands to walk toward you, around his coffee table to stand in front of you where you’re spread out on the couch, just as he’d asked. It’d taken every ounce of control you had over your mouth not to ask him to draw you “like one of your french girls,” when he’d suggested the pose earlier. He leans over you and takes your jaw in his strong hand, looking straight into your eyes with his face only a few inches away. “You talk a big game, Y/n. Let’s see what you got.” He stands up straight again and unbuttons his pants. 

“I thought you told me not to get any ideas,” you smirk. 

“You want to be a brat. I’ll show you how I handle brats,” he says, unzipping his pants and pulling out his mostly hard member. You can’t help but lick your lips at the sight of him as he strokes himself. “Open,” he orders you. 

You try and fail to resist a smile forming on your lips. If he wants to play brat tamer then you'll do your part. You turn your eyes up at him without moving any other part of your body, giving him a defiant look. His hand takes your chin again, more roughly this time. “Open,” he insists. This time you do as you're told, opening your mouth a bit and sticking out your tongue obnoxiously. He doesn’t hesitate to shove his tip past your lips, pushing as far into you as he can at once until you gag on him. You open your jaw a little wider and let him fuck your mouth. Just when he starts to feel like he’s got the upper hand you take him by surprise, wrapping your hand gently around him and suck off his length with a pop. 

“Mm, fuck, Junie. You do have a nice dick,” you grin up at him as you pump him a few times before taking him back in your mouth to show him you’re in control. You swirl your tongue around his head, drawing out a low moan from him before plunging him deep into your mouth again. You hollow your cheeks as you bob on him, listening to his breathy moans while your tongue slips over him. 

He gathers your hair in his hands and looks down at you. “Fuck, you have a pretty nice mouth...for a brat,” he mutters. At that you release him from your mouth again. 

“Don’t test me, Yanjun,” you warn him. 

Yanjun’s eyes turn instantly darker and a devilish grin pulls his lips. He thinks he definitely wants to test you. He knots his fingers in your hair and wraps his other hand around your arm to pull you off the couch. He moves you quickly over to his kitchen table and releases you only to grab you by the hips and place you on top of the wood platform. His hand is suddenly on your neck, pulling your lips to his, crashing together as you both moan. You reach your hands under his shirt and feel his warm smooth skin momentarily before pushing the fabric upward and he breaks your kiss to rid himself of it. His lips return to yours and you run your tongue out to part them, inviting his own out to play. Yanjun’s hand goes to the zipper at the back of your dress and pulls it down forcefully, dragging the sleeves down your arms before he goes back for your bra. He leans you back on the table to bring his mouth to your nipple, sucking it harshly and grazing his teeth over the sensitive nub. 

“Fuck, Yanjun, you gonna eat me or what?” you whine at the stimulation. 

“You would like that wouldn’t you?” he asks as he pulls your dress down further, over your hips and drops it on the floor. 

“Maybe.”

He runs slightly calloused hands over your smooth skin as he takes in the sight of your body, dressed only in your panties now, but he decides to do away with those as well. Now that you’re completely naked he takes one of your dangling legs and places it over his shoulder while pushing your other thigh out wide against the table, opening up your drenched core for him to see. 

“So pretty,” he praises unexpectedly. He runs his finger over your folds, toying with you, and chuckles at your whimpers. “You want me so bad, don’t you, you fucking brat.”

“I guess I do,” you reply, daring him to pleasure you. 

He slips one finger into your heat. “Damn, you’re tight,” he breathes. He enjoys the weak cry you give when he adds another finger and slowly begins to stroke you. You rut against his fingers, annoyed by his slowness, but he likes teasing you. You lick your fingers and rub them over your needy clit, desperate for more stimulation. "God you really are horny little slut are you?" he laughs. 

"Don't call me a slut, whore," you spit back before moaning at your own pleasure.

"Keep it up," he challenges. 

"Why don't you just show me what you got, Junie?" you taunt. 

Turned on and still a little annoyed, Yanjun reaches in his pocket and pulls out a condom before he pushes his jeans and his briefs down to the floor. "You fucking asked for it," he mutters, ripping open the package with his teeth and quickly slipping on the rubber. He pushes your hand away and centers himself at your dripping slit. He slides into you quickly, bottoming out in one go. "Such a good little slut," he moans at the sound of your cry. You can't say anything as he gives you hard thrusts and fills you up at high speed. "Finally figured out how to shut you up, huh?" He smiles at the fucked out expression that's taken over your face as he rails you. You want to argue, but you can't. Deciding to be generous he rubs his thumb over your clit harshly and pushes you toward your high. Obscenities and broken forms of his name spill from your lips as the knot in your stomach tightens and you can only scream as it bursts. He slows down a little and rides out your high feeling you pulse around him.

"Fuck. You're so sexy coming all over my cock," he moans. "Do you like it, slut?" When you don't answer he leans over you and wraps his hand around your throat. He picks up the speed. "I said, do you like taking my cock, you little slut?" He growls.

"I love taking your cock, Yanjun," you choke out and he releases you.

"You're so good at it, too," he groans. "Fuck I'm gonna cum soon," he tells you. He grabs your thighs and gives a few more full hard thrusts before his dick twitches inside you. He leans over you again, this time his hands on either side of your chest as he pants. He gives you a few soft kisses over your collar bone before he finds the strength to stand and pull out of you. He takes your hand and pulls you up too. He looks you in the eyes again and strokes your cheek with his thumb. "I guess you're not so bad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boys I will always think of as bad boys: Chengcheng and Lin Yanjun. Change my mind. I hope you liked this one :)


	10. Justin: Stress Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Justin x female reader
> 
> Genre: smut
> 
> Warnings: protected sex, semi-public sex, profanity
> 
> Word count: 1.7k
> 
> A/n: I previously said I wasn't comfortable writing sex scenes about Justin, but then on his 19th birthday my friend said he seemed like the kind who would want to fuck while looking at himself in the mirror. And then I had to fucking write this. Also, I know he's a Pisces but he radiates such Leo energy, so I feel like he'd want you to feel good about yourself too. Anyway here it is.

You come out of the Art department office in a frenzy, your mind so consumed by the seemingly endless list of things you need to get done this week that you’re unaware of your surroundings. You don’t see the boy coming down the hall until you run into him, his frame knocking you to the floor and sending your books and your bag flying around you. 

“Shit! I’m sorry,” you groan. You’re overwhelmed and the first thing you feel is you want to curl into a ball and cry. You cover your eyes for a moment, willing them to stay dry and take a deep breath before you begin to gather your things.

“It’s my fault, Y/n. I’m sorry,” the boy says. You think you’ve heard his voice before but you don’t recognize it, yet he obviously knows you. You look up to see Justin crouching to the ground to pick up your books. 

“Hey, Justin. No, it was me. I’m distracted,” you admit, hooking your bag over your shoulder and standing again. 

“I can see that. Are you okay?” he wonders, looking you up and down as he hands you your books. 

“Not really,” you laugh awkwardly. 

“What’s up? You’re shaking. Anything I can do to help?”

“I’m just really stressed.” You shake your head and look up at him to see him looking back at you with sympathetic eyes. He just keeps looking at you, like he wants you to go on, so you do. “I’ve just got a paper due this week, and an edition of the department newsletter and an article and a couple other things that have to be done. Just busy,” you blabber. You look down and sigh, your hair falling into your face. 

Suddenly you feel Justin’s fingertips graze your cheekbone and tuck your hair behind your ear, causing you to look back up at him. “You’ll get it done, Y/n. Don’t worry.”

You’re startled, and it’s pretty evident in your deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Uh, th-thanks,” you stammer. You never thought Justin, a mere freshman, could make you nervous, but here he is, making you struggle for words. 

“You need to relax,” he continues. “What do you normally do to relieve stress?” he wonders. 

Your eyes roam side to side and you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Usually you fuck. You look back up at him. His eyes have suddenly grown darker and they’re boring into you. You can’t seem to find anything to say, not a single word, before his lips are slowly coming toward yours. You remember he’s a good kisser and you let your eyes slip closed in anticipation. His soft, full lips push gently against yours at first before they move ever so effortlessly, showing particular affection for your bottom lip. His kisses are so easy to get lost in. It’s only the sound of a door closing around the corner and down another hallway that brings your back to your body and exactly where you’re standing. It’s night time, almost 9 pm and that’s probably the last person to leave the building. You don’t even know what Justin is doing there so late, but you don’t really think about it. You don’t think about much as your eyes search the hallway and fall on the door of the men’s bathroom. You’re not thinking when you grab Justin’s wrist and pull him toward the door, pushing it open with your shoulder. Once inside, Justin pushes you against the door, turning the lock, and presses his lips to yours once more. Now his kisses are more urgent and needy. He swipes his tongue across your lips and your tongue comes out to touch his. Moments later you feel the door press against you, as if someone is trying to get it. Luckily they can’t, but you move him away from the door nonetheless, pushing him toward the sinks. You dump your purse and your books into one of the basins and wrap your arms around his neck, never having broken the kiss. Your fingers twist into his dark hair while he hands grope over your ass. They drift up to rest on your hips and suddenly he turns you around. His hands wander over your stomach and up to your breasts while his lips meet your neck, sucking gently and making you tingle and close your eyes. His lips come to nibble on your earlobe. 

“Look, Y/n,” he rasps so quietly in your ear and you open your eyes. “Look how fucking hot you and I are together,” he whispers. 

“Justin,” you laugh. You turn your head away from the reflection. On top of everything else you’re not particularly feeling yourself today.

“What?” He turns your face forward again with his hand and kisses your jaw just below your ear. “Just stating facts. I’m sexy. You’re sexy. We make a good pair. Don’t you think?”

“Fuck, Justin. You’re just a baby,” you think out loud. 

“Am not,” he mumbles against your jugular before he sucks onto it. 

You can’t stop the moan that slips past your lips. “Stop, or I’m going to ruin you.”

He does stop, but only to look at you in the mirror. “Y/n, you don’t think I’m a virgin, do you?” he wonders. You clear your throat, but don’t answer. “Oh my god. Seriously?” He’s baffled, much too self-assured of his sex appeal to accept such an assumption. “Guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong,” he says, sliding his hand under your skirt. His warm hand rubs over your ass, digging his fingers into your flesh. His other hand pushes your shoulder so you bend over the sink, gripping the basin with both hands. He flips your skirt up to expose your ass and gives it a good smack. “That’s for making assumptions about me,” he says. You're shocked, but thrilled by how quickly he can go from charming and boyish to intensely sexy.

He rubs his fingers over your covered heat, applying extra pressure over your clit and enjoying the way your eyes roll back as he does so. His hands drift back over your ass, over your hips and up your sides to your shoulders, massaging them. “You are really tense,” he observes, pushing his hips against you a few times, miming thrusts, but you can feel his bulge against you. “I can help you relieve your stress,” he offers with a cocked eyebrow. 

You look up at him in the mirror to see if he means it, and he definitely means business. “Do you have protection?” you wonder. 

His expression falls a little. “No,” he admits. 

“Rookie,” you tease and reach into your bag to find one and pass it back to him, bringing a grin to his face. He holds it between his teeth as he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them to his ankles followed by your panties. After he gets the condom on he rubs his tip against your slit and presses against your hole just before looking up into the mirror. He looks at your face to see your mouth form an ‘O’ as he slides into you. With no prep and not having expected this to happen at all, you’re tighter than ever, but your walls pull him in. The stretch is a little uncomfortable after first, but he moves slowly and gives you time to adjust to him, enjoying the change in your expression as you relax around him. He looks down to watch his length disappear inside of you and bites his lip. You let your head dip forward and close your eyes as you move with his thrusts. 

“Look up, Y/n,” he says in a husky voice. You lift your eyes to the mirror again and see him watching himself fucking you, every so often letting his eyes flick down to your face. “Didn’t I say we looked fucking sexy together,” he admires, running a hand through his hair.

“Mhm,” you moan. 

That answer wasn’t enough for him. He lifts his hand to bring it down firmly on your ass. “Tell me you think we’re fucking sexy, baby,” he demands, looking himself in the eyes. 

You look up at him. “You’re so goddamn sexy, Justin,” you admit. 

He grunts as he thrusts deeply into you, his cock twitching at the sound of your compliment. He grabs a fist full of your hair and tugs gently to turn your face straight forward. “Tell me you look sexy, Y/n,” he insists. 

“Fuck, Justin,” you moan as he rubs against your g-spot.

“Say it.” His voice echoes off the bathroom walls, accompanied by the slapping sound of your skin.

“I look sex, baby,” you moan, your knuckles turning white as they hold onto the sink and his pace increases. 

“Fuck yeah you do. You’re so gorgeous, and you’re even hotter with my cock inside of you. I could watch this forever,” he says, looking at himself. His confidence brings an involuntary smile to your face. You lift your chest and rut against him to get the perfect contact between his cock and your sweet spot. The way he’s looking from himself to you turns you on more than anything. You start to see him lose himself in the warmth of your pussy walls clenching around him as he pushes you toward your high. You close your eyes tightly as you feel the tension in your stomach reach its peak and then snap. Your throbbing heat brings on his orgasm as well and his hips stutter, slowing down as he pumps his cock dry. 

“Damn,” he breathes, kneading his fingers into your hips. He pulls out of you and disposes of the full condom in the trashcan next to the sink before he bends over to pull your panties back up to your hips. He lifts his pants and covers himself while you stand up and straighten out your skirt. He smiles down at your eyes in the mirror once more and turns you around. He kisses you again, resting his hands on your hips while yours lay gently against his chest. “Feel better?” he asks when he pulls away. 

“I do, actually,” you admit. “Thanks, Justin.”

“No, problem,” he shrugs. “Pretty girls shouldn’t be so stressed.”

You clear your throat and he takes a step back, allowing you to gather your bag and your books once more. He opens the door and looks out into the hallway. The coast is clear and you say a quiet goodbye to each other, heading in separate directions. Thanks to Justin you can actually get some work done tonight.


	11. Wenjun: The Record

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Art student Wenjun x female reader
> 
> Genre: SMUT
> 
> Summary: Wenjun invites you to his apartment for a night he'll make sure you never forget.
> 
> Word count: 4k
> 
> Warnings: multiple orgasms/overstimulation, digital stimulation/hand kink, oral sex (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (I usually try to promote safe sex here, but it didn’t fit my aesthetic), daddy kink (daddy, baby, princess, etc.), after care
> 
> A/n: Not me being obsessed with Wenjun in this AU...

You don't know why you're worrying so much about what to wear to Wenjun’s. You know you won't be wearing it for very long anyway. You're tired of looking, so you just choose a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a t-shirt because you look hot, but not like you care. 

You walk over to his place because it's still light out, not even 5 pm yet, but you couldn't resist his promise of multiple orgasms. You almost raise your fist to knock on the door but he told you it was unlocked so you let yourself in.

"Hello?" you say to the empty living room. 

"In the kitchen." Wenjun’s voice drifts clearly through the apartment to you. You remove your shoes and leave your purse on the chair and walk quietly to meet him there. "Hey, gorgeous," he says, surprising you with a peck on the cheek, but you try not to show your shock. 

"What are you doing?" you ask, looking at his hands, covered in olive oil. 

"Marinating chicken for later," he tells you.

"Oh. Later?"

"Yeah, you're gonna be really hungry when I'm done with you," he smiles and you laugh loudly. "Get yourself something to drink. I'm almost done. There is an open bottle of wine in the fridge.” He gestures with a jerk of his head over his shoulder.

"I'm just gonna have water," you say.

"Good idea. Stay hydrated," he tells you with the same smile as before. “Glasses are to your left.”

"Wenjun you're starting to scare me," you say as you pour yourself a glass. 

"Don't be scared. I'm gonna take good care of you. Don't worry. Go wait for me on the couch. I'll join you soon," he says as he continues his work.

You squint at him suspiciously before you do as he said. You grab the book off his coffee table, thinking what kind of a pretentious ass college student has a coffee table book, but it's about ceramics in ancient China so you're intrigued. 

"Anything interesting?" Wenjun asks several minutes later as he sits beside you.

"Mm. Very. Professor Wang is letting me write a critique of the ceramics in the fall exhibition for extra credit, so I've been trying to read up." You close the book and set it on the table along with your water glass. Then you turn to Wenjun. He cups your jaw with his hand and kisses your other cheek softly.

"Then I can count on a good review?" he asks quietly next to your ear.

"I will be honest and fair," you smile. His breath tickles your ear as he chuckles. He brings his lips to yours now. "Uh, Wenjun, you washed your hands thoroughly, right?" You think of his hands on the chicken not long ago and now on your face and soon to be other places.

"Of course, princess. I scrubbed them nice and clean for you." You turn your face to sniff his hand, making him smile before turning square to him again. It checks out. He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs as he molds his lips to yours again. His tongue presses against your lips and you part them to touch your tongue to his, your muscles now moving gently against each other, accompanied by soft wet sounds. One of Wenjun’s hands goes to the back of your neck to hold you firmly while the other slides down your side to your hip. He lets out a small chuckle as he notices what you're wearing for the first time. "I didn't even think you owned real pants," he smiles.

"What? Of course I own pants." You give him an incredulous look. 

"But I usually see you in skirts or dresses, or occasionally those yoga pants." He hums at the memory. 

"Well, I like skirts," you say vaguely.

"For easy access," he snorts. 

"I- no! Shut up," you laugh and kiss him, but he's not entirely wrong.

"Well, in any case, we're gonna get you out of these," he promises, even as he strokes his hands over your denim clad thighs. You're ready. You know your pussy is already soaked, probably leaking into your panties under your jeans. You’ve been revved up ever since you got his text. You let him turn you, guiding you gently with the hand on your neck to lay your back down on the couch, and he pulls your legs over his lap. "Tell me, princess. How many orgasms have you had in a single night?" he asks as he unbuttons and unzips your jeans with his nimble fingers.

You bite your lips as you think. "Three."

He stops what he's doing and leans over you. "Don't lie to me," he says menacingly.

Your breath catches in your chest. "Four."

"Good girl. Tonight we'll make it five, okay?" He smiles as he hooks his fingers under your waist band. 

"What are you trying to prove?" you ask, a hint of panic evident in your tone.

"Not trying to prove anything, princess. I just wanna make sure you never forget me."

"Wenjun, you're gonna give me a heart attack," you worry while he pulls your tight pants from under your ass. 

"Don't worry, baby. I'll give you a break in between." He pulls the denim off your ankles and drops it to the floor. "Maybe." You lick your lips and watch his face intently as he runs his cool hands over your smooth legs. "One last thing," he says as he watches his hands glide up your thighs and turns his eyes to your face. "We've never established a safeword." 

"Ah, hm. Orange?" you suggest as your go to. 

"Orange works," he agrees, and his hands continue up to your hips. "Come here, baby," he says, pulling you up to straddle his hips, but not letting you sit on him. He tugs your shirt over your head and drops it behind the couch before he expertly unhooks your bra and frees your breasts right at eye level. "Is it too cold in here?" he asks as he squeezes them gently, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. You shake your head no, your eyes looking down into his as he brings his lips to your hard nub, nipping at it before capturing it lightly between his teeth and teasing you with his tongue. Hot electric pulses shoot to your core and your hips begin to rock against him involuntarily. "My baby girl is so eager," he smiles as he places a kiss in the valley of your breasts before moving on to tease the other one. He lets one hand drift around your side and over your ass to end up between your thighs, rubbing your covered cunt softly. "So warm and wet for me already?"

"Yes, daddy," you moan as his fingertips circle your bud, your head falling back. He continues rubbing over the satin cloth for a minute, listening as your breath falls ruggedly from your parted lips. 

He puts his hands on your hips and shifts you to the side. "I want you to ride daddy's thigh. Can you do that for me, baby?"

"Mhm," you respond sweetly as you sink onto his leg. His hands help guide you as you begin to move back and forth over his thigh. You rest your hands on his shoulders, but one finds its way into his hair as you stimulate yourself with the friction of his jeans. He leans into your neck, sucking marks into your skin. Your movements become more needy as you get closer and closer, grinding your hips in a circular motion rather than back to front.

"That's right, baby. You do what you need to do, but you can't stop until you come on daddy's leg." He tucks your hair behind your ear after it falls when you look down. He goes back to rubbing and teasing your nipples until it's all too much and you come for the first time, moaning and shaking. "That's so good, baby girl. You did such a good job for daddy. You did the first one all by yourself." He puts his hand in your hair to bring your face to his and kisses you tenderly. "You're so pretty when you come, baby." You whimper, feeling your juices trickle out of you.

Wenjun picks you up off his leg and lays you back down on the couch. He gets on his knees and leans over you to kiss your throat. He takes his time laying soft kisses all over your body. He wants you to calm down before he makes you come again. He wants to take hours on you. It feels like hours as you anticipate what he'll do next. His gentle touches keep you guessing and shivering as he squeezes your boobs, your ass or your thighs, anything he can get his hands on. Finally, he lips get to the hem of your panties. "I bet you're just dripping for me, aren't you, princess?" he asks, kissing the tiny satin bow on the front. 

"I'm so, so wet for you," you admit in a whine, desperate for him to do something with it.

"Good, baby. I'm gonna eat you up," he promises as he peels your panties down your hips. They cling to your wetness, and he looks at you with an amused smile. He gets up on his knees to pull the smooth piece of fabric off your feet. "Gimme your hands," he instructs you and you obey without question. He holds them together in one hand while he wraps your panties tightly around your wrists with the other. Then he lays down on his stomach between your thighs, your knees bent up like peaks around him. He places kisses on the inside of your thigh that make you shiver and clench around nothing. Slowly, his kisses lead to your heat. Soft, teasing kisses are pressed all around your yearning folds. Your hips push desperately toward him, seeking the contact he's so slow to give. He puts his hands on your thighs to hold you back and spread you wider apart. Finally, he places a light kiss over your sensitive clit and your hips jerk against his hold. He gives you another one slightly lower and another until he reaches your entrance and sticks out his tongue to taste you, all the while he looks up into your dark, needy eyes, you holding your tied up hands above your head so you can keep him in view. His tongue slides deep into your hole and then up to your clit in a smooth, firm motion. "Fuck, baby, you're delicious," he tells you. "So sweet," he says after another taste. He doesn't hold back anymore as his tongue works over all your folds, not leaving a drop of your arousal. He sucks on your clit briefly before rubbing it with his broad flat tongue. He's not teasing anymore, and you let an endless stream of expletives leave your mouth as he pushes you enthusiastically toward another orgasm. You push yourself on, focusing on the tension inside of you until it finally breaks and ripples through you as he gives you a few more licks than you need. "Oh, yes, baby. You came so good for me again. That's number two." 

Wenjun lifts his head up to kiss you, making sure you taste yourself on his lips and his tongue, pushing the hardworking muscle into your mouth, against your teeth. You wrap your bound hands over her neck to hold him against you and he moans into your mouth. You moan right back as he slides two fingers into your still drenched, still pulsing slit. 

"Fuck, Wenjun," you cry, breaking away from his lips as he rubs his fingers quickly against your sweet spot, making the most delicious sounds in your juices. He sits back on his heels to watch his fingers disappear into you. He notices you trying to prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see too, knowing that his fingers are your favorite. He grips your bound wrists with his free hand and yanks the fabric off. Then, he takes one of your hands and places it over your mound.

"C'mon, baby. Show me how you touch yourself. We'll do this one together, okay?" He says as he continues to pump his fingers inside of you, knowing just the spot.

"Fuck, daddy, please," you beg, though you don't even know what for. Do you want it to stop or not? Probably not. You lick your fingers and move them lazily over your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

"C'mon, baby. I know you can do it," he encourages you as your hips raise off the couch. "Come for me again and daddy will let you suck his cock."

His encouragement works and gets you to move your fingers faster over your clit. It doesn't take much more than that for you to clench around him, and he looks up at your face just in time to see you come all over his fingers. He truly loves the expression of ecstacy you make it. The way your eyes close and your mouth falls open, the way your neck curves when you throw your head back. He can't get enough of it. He smiles softly at you and pulls his fingers out of you slowly. 

"There's three. That's our record." He sits between your legs and pulls you up to sit too. He puts his fingers in your mouth and makes you clean them, making sure to lick well in between, but you suck on them, too, exciting yourself as much as you do him. "That's so sexy. You're doing so well, baby. Don't you feel good?" he asks, pulling you onto his lap. He finally gives you a chance to breathe. 

"Yes, daddy, too good," you whimper as your sensitive pussy contacts his jeans. He brushes your hair back over your shoulders so he can kiss them while he holds your body close.

"Nothing's too good for you, princess," he coos. He brings his lips to yours and kisses you while you relax in his arms. 

"Can I suck your cock now, daddy?" ask quietly.

"Okay, baby." He moves you to the side so he can stand and removes his t-shirt. Your fingers go eagerly to his belt buckle but he brushes them away. He unbuckles it and undoes his pants while you watch excitedly, licking your lips for him. "You like my cock that much, baby?" he smiles, not that you can see it while you watch him push his designer underwear down with his pants. 

"Fuck, daddy, I love your cock," you smile as it springs out, hitting his stomach as he bends over to remove the last of his clothing. You reach for him but are rebuffed again as he strokes his length. You frown.

"Don't worry, baby, you'll get your chance. We're gonna 69, but if you make me come first, I'm not gonna fuck you later, understand?" 

You let out a wordless whine, but you nod your head. You stand up from the couch, noticing how unstable your legs are. He bends down and uses his free hand to grab your neck and capture you in a rough kiss. He lets go of you and lays himself out on the couch. "Now gimme that pussy, baby girl," he says, showing you his long, thin hands ready to receive you. You kneel straddling his chest and bring yourself down on top of him, holding your ass away from him as you bend yourself over his cock. He lets you take him in your hands, using both to pump his massive throbbing length, so hard and needy from torturing your poor pussy for so long without any attention, but then whose fault was that? You take his red tip, aching from being trapped in his jeans, into your wet mouth and swirl your tongue around it. He lets out a soft moan as his hands knead over your ass. You pop off of him and drool saliva onto his cock, spreading it around with your hand before you bring your mouth down on him until you gag. He's so big there's absolutely no way for you to get all of him in your mouth no matter how relaxed your throat is, so you simply do the best you can and bob your head up and down on him, listening to his soft moans mix with the sounds of your mouth on his thick cock.

As soon as you've found a comfortable rhythm, he's decided your break is over. He dips one long finger into your core to collect your arousal. The moment he touches you, your hips begin to shake and buck away from him. "Where do you think you're going, little girl?" He smirks as he brings his other hand to wrap around your waist and hold you down. You're trapped as he rubs your overstimulated bud with your own cum. You want to complain but there's no way you're taking your mouth off his delicious cock, so you just whimper and moan all over him. "You've got such a beautiful pussy, baby," he moans over you. Your legs burn and quiver as you try to hold yourself up. He removes his hand and pulls your body down to rest fully on him, relieving your legs, but now his mouth has access to your clit. He holds you tight to him, fingers digging into your ass, sure to leave bruises, as he sucks on you. You work harder on his cock, spitting more saliva into your hand so you can pump him faster while you hollow your cheeks and take shallower mouthfuls of him. He lets off your clit to moan loudly. "Fuck, baby, you better not make me come," he warns with a growl. You whine as he returns with his tongue, giving you just the right amount of pressure. The knot in your stomach is unbearable and you just want it to burst because it's too much, but it takes him another minute of him licking your sweet cunt for your fourth orgasm to crash down on you. You come with a small cry and your whole body shakes. Your muscles are completely useless to suck or stroke him or do anything else, and all you can do is collapse on top of him and pant. He lays tender kisses on your thighs and around your lips that only add more tremors to your body, but there's absolutely nothing you can do. He's fucked you brainless and he hasn't even put his dick in you yet. Very carefully he maneuvers you off of him, knowing perfectly well you won't be able to move yourself. He picks you up and carries you to his bedroom, laying you down gently in the middle of his soft bed.

"You've been such a good girl," he tells you. "I know it's a lot, but you've done so well so far. Daddy's gonna make you come one more time, and then he's gonna take good care of you, okay?" he promises, rubbing his hands soothingly over your body. He strokes himself before lining himself up at your swollen slit. He covers his tip in your essence and makes sure you're nice and wet before he slides into you. Even though he's been working your pussy for well over an hour, your walls still squeeze tightly around his girth. You let out a grunt as he stretches you. He goes slow to give you time to adjust, but it doesn't matter much. At this point you're nothing more than a body of pulsing nerves. He holds your throat as he fucks you, not too tight, but enough to have you seeing stars. He chases his own high, knowing that as soon as he wants you to come, you will, either out of obedience or an inability to do anything else. High pitched moans flow endlessly past your lips as he thrusts into you, seemingly up into your stomach. As he gets closer to his high, he pulls back, pulling your hips up to the right angle and giving less of himself to you so that he can hit your sweet spot just right. He fucks fast and hard and now you're screaming for him. "That’s right, baby. Come one more time for your daddy. You can do it," he encourages. You have no choice. You're walls clench around him and as soon as they do he pulls out of you, pumping his warm cum onto your belly. Thick white ropes shoot from your navel all the way to your breasts. He smiles down at you, pleased by your fucked out appearance, being speechless and covered in his cum.

He leans over you to kiss your lips and then your forehead. "Wait for me," he says as if you could do anything else, as if you even had the energy to roll over. When he comes back he sets a glass over water on the nightstand. He uses a warm wet washcloth to wipe away the tears you didn't even know had leaked from your eyes and smiles down at you warmly. "Are you okay, baby?" 

You smile and whisper, "yes." You stretch your arms over your head. 

He wipes you down between your thighs and tries to be gentle with your vulva. He cleans up your abdomen, making sure all traces of his sticky mess are gone. He puts the towel somewhere to the side and gets beside you in the bed, pulling his soft, fluffy duvet over you and holding you tenderly. "You were so good today," he praises as he nuzzles into your neck. "We set a new record." You smile in spite of yourself and how tired you are. You doubt anyone will ever top that, and you hope to God no one tries. "I'm sure you're tired now, so just close your eyes and take a little nap, okay. Daddy's gonna make you a good dinner, and I'll be here when you wake up." He presses kisses to your hair and temple while you close your eyes and let yourself drift away.

When you wake up, the apartment is full of the delicious smell of roasted chicken. Wenjun is beside you, just like he said he'd be. He's reclining his back against the headboard, a sketch pad perched against his knees. 

"I didn't know you could draw," you say softly, pushing yourself up. 

He reaches over for a glass of water and hands it to you. "I don't much anymore," he says.

"Can I see?" you ask after a long drink. He turns the notebook to you. He's drawn you sleeping peacefully. Your breasts are exposed, but it's still quite tasteful. The angle he's captured makes you look beautiful even to yourself. "Wow. You're really talented," you compliment, wondering if there's anything he can't do. 

He sets it aside without responding to your praise. "Are you hungry?" he asks, turning his gaze to you. You nod enthusiastically. He takes you by the hand and helps you off the bed. He pulls one of his large sweatshirts over your head, laughing at your expression when your face comes through. Luckily you thought to bring extra underwear, and you go to your purse to get them. You decide to stay pants-less. 

"Did I sleep too long?" you ask as you sit in the chair he holds out for you at his small table. You hope he didn't have to wait too long and let the food get cold. 

"Not at all," he assures you. "Perfect, actually." He serves you chicken, potatoes and carrots, all roasted to perfection and offers you a glass of wine, which you take. 

"I didn't know you were such a good cook," you smile, raising the glass to your lips.

"Why don't you try it first," he smiles as he sits across from you. But you're right anyway. You eat and talk, laughing away yet another lovely evening with Bi Wenjun.


	12. Yueyue: "Gimme that look again"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Yueyue x female reader  
> Word count: ~2k
> 
> Summary: You agree to model for Yueyue for a painting, and of course he can’t resist you.
> 
> Warnings: honestly not too much out of the ordinary here. Nothing too kinky. Oral (both), sex (protected). It’s kinda just sweet.
> 
> A/n: It was really tempting to title this “We are artists, baby” but I refrained.

When Yueyue asks you if you have a few hours to let him paint you on Sunday evening you readily agree. 

“Um, it’s nude,” he says nervously after his initial request. 

“That’s fine, Yueyue. I’ve done nude modeling before,” you say casually. 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s just an idea that I have,” he continues. It’s endearing how shy he is really. 

“I won’t be. Don’t worry. I’m looking forward to it,” you tell him before exchanging goodbyes and hanging up. 

You arrive at Yueyue’s more excited than you expected. For one thing it’s been ages since you’ve modeled for a painting, but it’s also been a few weeks since you’ve had any action, your longest spell in a while, actually. You aren’t a hundred percent sure it will happen tonight, hearing how nervous the painter was about your nudity and since you don’t have any history together, but you never know. He opens the door to you with a reserved smile and invites you inside. 

“Uh, would you like a drink while I finish setting up?” he offers. You’re starting to feel a touch of nerves, so you accept a whiskey and coke and wait on the couch while he apologizes for not quite being ready yet, but you assure him it’s no big deal. When he’s finally ready he asks you to remove your shirt and bra and lays you down on a soft white blanket he’s laid out. It’s pretty nice, you think, that you’ll get to lay down for the entire session. Once he positions you with your hair fanned out and arms stretched in a relaxed position over your head–making sure to touch you with the lightest of holds–he begins to lay silk flowers around you. Even though you can’t see it from your perspective the vibe seems very ethereal and soft. 

“Are you okay?” he asks when he’s done. 

“Great,” you smile, feeling it’s hard to be unhappy in this setting. 

“You look beautiful,” he says quietly. 

“Thanks,” you respond just as softly. 

“Oh, is the light bothering you?” he asks as he rises to perch himself on the stool to the side of you in front of his canvas. 

“No, it’s okay,” you assure him. 

“Well, you can close your eyes if you want, and I’ll let you know when I’m doing your face.” He picks up one of his brushes and begins. 

“If I close my eyes I might fall asleep,” you laugh. “I’m quite comfortable.”

“That’s okay, too. As long as you don’t move,” he smiles. “I heard you’ve been working really hard this week on the fall exhibition.” You make a sound of affirmation. “Any hints about what works will be included?”

“Did you submit something?” you ask, as if you didn’t see his name on the submission forms. 

“A few things, maybe,” he grinned bashfully. 

“Sorry. I don’t know anything yet. They’re still making the selection. But I did see your paintings and they’re very good,” you tell him honestly. 

“Thanks,” he says and goes quiet for a while. 

After a little while you do close your eyes and let your thoughts drift while you listen to the low-fi hip hop music he has playing softly in the background. Every so often you look up and your eyes meet. The need pools between your legs every time. It’s growing inside of you. You hope the way he’s looking at you is desire.

“Are you okay, Y/n? Do you need a break?” Yueyue asks after a quiet period has passed. 

“No, I’m okay,” you say, but he continues to check in with you periodically as he paints. Sometimes he makes light conversation. 

“Okay, can you look up at me now?” he requests, and you turn your eyes on him. “Mm, and gimme that look you were giving me earlier.”

“Which look?”

“I guess you could say it was a look of…” he clears his throat. “Lust.”

You smile briefly because you know exactly what he means. You turn the look on him and he seems frozen for a few seconds, committing the expression in your eyes to memory so he can paint it.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says eventually, putting his brush down. He extends a hand down to you to help you up and you take it happily. 

“Can I see?” you ask excitedly. 

“Of course,” he says, looking back at his canvas. “I’ll add some more color and shade to it later, but I think you’ve done enough.”

You come behind him and look over his shoulder, your bare breasts press just against his back. “Wow. It’s so beautiful. You’re very talented,” you compliment. 

“And you’re very beautiful,” he replies. He turns around to look at you. You’re just a little taller than him as he sits on his stool, and you’re quite close. He looks up at you, from your eyes to your lips and he’s able to read all the signs you’re putting out that yell “KISS ME!” He stands and brings you even closer to him with a hand on your neck until your lips meet. All his nervousness has gone after hours of looking at your breasts. Not that he’s desensitized to them. Rather he’s been thinking of how they would feel in his hands. He’s been thinking about licking and biting them. You push your hips closer to him, encouraging him to place one hand at the top of your jeans where he can feel your soft skin. His other hand, the one gripping your neck, drifts down your shoulder, slowly over your arm until he finds the right moment to gently cup your breast. You place your hand on his neck and deepen the kiss, running your tongue over his lips, begging for access. He lets you in, his tongue dancing with yours. 

He breaks the kiss to gasp for air. “Is this-?”

“Yes,” you answer hastily and wrap your arms around his shoulders to pull his lips back to yours. Yueyue reaches down to grab your thighs just below your ass and lift you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and let him carry you to his bedroom, still kissing. He sets you on the bed and you break the kiss only to remove his shirt and then your lips connect again while your hands feel his sides. He knits his fingers into your hair to pull your head to the side so he can access your neck, making you whimper as he sucks on your sensitive spot. He leans over you and pushes your back down against the bed, kissing and sucking your chest all over. He massages your breasts just the way he was imagining doing while you were laid out before him and brings his mouth back to yours. 

You turn the tables on him, bringing your fingers to the button of his paint splattered pants. You get them unzipped and stand up to push him down on the bed once you’ve pulled them down. You get on the bed with him and palm him over his briefs while you pepper his chest with kisses. “Can I suck your cock, Yueyue?” you ask seductively between kisses. 

“Fuck, yes you can,” he laughs a little, already feeling good at your touch. 

He’s completely hard already as you pull down the elastic band holding his underwear to him and his cock springs out before your smiling face. Once you’ve removed his underwear completely, you take him in your hand and give him gentle strokes. He watches you attentively as you place soft kisses and kitten licks on his head and shaft, teasing him relentlessly while he shakes at each one. Finally, you take his head into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it, making his eyes roll back in this head and you smile around him. You begin to suck gently and massage his shaft with your tongue. He moans obscenely as you bob up and down on him, pushing all of him in your mouth until you choke. You come off him, letting spit slide all over his dick before you spread it with your hand in tight, generous pumps. 

“Fuck, Y/n, you’re so good at that,” he says unsteadily with hazy eyes. 

“I want you to cum in my mouth, can you do that?” you ask in a sultry tone. 

“You better get back on it, then,” he warns as your hand and your words push him dangerously close to climax. You hollow your cheeks and take him deep and fast until you feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth just before he explodes. Instead of swallowing you let the mixture of saliva and cum slip down his shaft and lick it all up for him to see. The extra strokes of your tongue make him tremble at the sensitivity. “Fuck, Y/n. I’ve never…”

“Never what?” you wonder between licks, hoping to god you did not just take this man’s virginity. He’s far too hot for that. 

“I’ve just never seen a woman like you,” Yueyue says. You smile brightly now that you’ve cleaned him up entirely. You sit up and he pulls you in for another kiss. “My turn,” he grins as he lays you back down on the bed. He quickly unbuttons your pants and pulls them roughly down your legs with your panties. You giggle at his eagerness as he spreads your legs far apart to get right at your pussy. He licks a thick stripe from your asshole to your clit, spreading your lips apart. “You’re so fucking wet,” he nearly growls. You’re not surprised, you’ve been waiting hours to get fucked. Days. He dives his firm tongue into your slit and tastes more of you, then he looks up into your eyes as he brings his lips to your clit and licks you softly. Your head falls back as he slips one finger, and a few moments later, two fingers into your drenched hole. You moan his name as he curls his fingers deep inside of you and gives your bud quick flicks of his tongue. 

“Harder,” you moan as you twist your fingers into his hair, and Yueyue happily obliges. “Oh, yeah just like that. Don’t stop!” you demand, and he fights a smile. He doesn’t stop until your thighs are closing around his head. He retracts his fingers from your pulsing vagina and licks them clean before he works his way slowly up to you, leaving a trail of kisses up your abdomen. When his face appears in front of yours again, he wears a shit eating grin, very proud of himself. You pull him onto you for a kiss, but also feel his skin on yours. You feel his hard cock against your thigh and let your hands roam over his back, all the way down to his muscular ass. Your passionate kiss dies into several small, light kisses, which then travel from your mouth to your cheek and your neck. You ask if he has protection and he obliges. He sits on the bed to put on the condom and as soon as it’s in place you’re in his lap, taking him by surprise yet again. Hand-free, you slide down onto his cock with a moan and a hiss slips through his teeth. You hold him close with your arms around his neck while he covers your clavicle with kisses. His hands hold firmly onto your ass while you bounce on him. 

“Get on your knees for me, sweetheart,” he says looking up at you and you agree. You get off him and onto all fours in front of him. He lines himself up and enters you quickly, setting a fast pace as he chases his high and you don’t mind as you listen to the string of praises falling from his lips that tell you how beautiful and desirable you are. It’s just what you need to hear and if it feels as good as any orgasm. Minutes later he comes inside you with a grunt. You both fall over onto the bed in exhausted, happy smiles. Yueyue pulls you into his arms and playfully bites you, eliciting laughter. “My queen,” he sighs contentedly. “God, you feel so good.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” you giggle. 

“Did you?” he wonders, though he’s pretty sure you did. 

“Very much. Thank you,” you smile and stroke his hair off his face. “You know how to treat a woman.”

“Thank you.” He smiles very smugly and it’s adorable.

**Author's Note:**

> At the moment this work includes the boys of NEXT, but may expand to include other Idol Producer boys, if I feel like going that way. If you have a request, comment or suggestion, I would love to hear from your in the comments. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy my gratuitous smut developing in my lonely, sex-starved brain. I am new to this level of smut writing, so if I failed to give you an appropriate warning please tell me politely and I will be sure update it and be mindful of any warnings or triggers in the future. I apologize in advance for any mistakes.
> 
> (I'm sorry I have a nervous habit of over explaining myself, but I can't help it. Please let me know about any misunderstandings)
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


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